Among the Freaks
by Darcy Chambers
Summary: Rose is a runaway Vampaneze. Created by Steve, she leaves him after an argument and eventually winds up at the cirque du freak. How will she cope amongst them? Will they accept her? Will Steve track her down? Read and find out! Please R&R :
1. A monster among the gods

Harsh screaming winds blew the hard rain almost horizontal along the back alleys and cobbled streets Rose ran through. She squeezed down narrow passages between the backs of houses usually reserved as shelter for rats and stray dogs. Behind her she heard the first screams of pedestrians as they came across the gruesome crime scene she had left. Their cries of horror at the discovery only made her run faster and Rose had to squint against the rain as it blurred her vision. Through the gaps in her thick wet lashes, she could just make out the outline of the old theatre in the moonlight. Slowing, she made her way through puddles to the back entrance where she knew the door was left unlocked. Keeping mainly to the shadows, she avoided the faint orange glow of street lamps in case a midnight stroller saw her.

The old, heavy door opened easily when she pressed her weight against it and allowed her access to the abandoned theatre. Once inside, Rose closed the door again, blocking out the cold night air and the rain. Inside, it was silent except for the gentle but persistent sound of raindrops falling against the roof. The theatre looked as though it were merely closed for the night. Rose had expected the disused building to be full of dust, cobwebs and mice but instead had found the old place to be to her liking. The seats and furnishings were a deep shade of crimson and the gold velvet trimmings around the room brightened it up a little. Rose chose to sleep in the upper circle, the highest point in the theatre commonly referred to as the gods. As she climbed the stairs leading to the high platform, she reflected on the irony of her sleeping situation; a monster among the gods. She paused as she mused over the word monster. It was what she had called Steve the night she had left him. In the heat of the argument, her fear and fury had overcome her and she spat out the word which had been in the back of her mind for weeks like venom. However, as much as she would have liked to pretend the name was simply a taunt, after tonight's event she had to admit that was what she had become. Like a monster, she had stalked her prey until it had entered a quiet and empty place in the town, a place ideal for her attack. Rose shuddered as she recalled how she had lunged at the girl from behind, her jaw locking around her victim's throat. The last thing she remembered clearly was the whistle of air escaping the prey's windpipe as she snapped her neck. After that, she had given in to her primal urges and had fed on the victim's blood like an animal.

Up in the gods, she licked the remainder of the blood off her hands and from the tips of her fingers and sighed happily. The sweet liquid satisfied the hunger pangs in the pit of her stomach and she allowed herself to rest. Snuggling under the blanket she had sourced from back stage, she closed her eyes and listened to the rain falling against the roof and the faint sound of sirens in the distance. Rose drifted into sleep dreaming about the sweet smell of blood.

A sudden noise from below drove Rose from the safety of her dreams and it took her a few moments to realize she was not alone in the old theatre. She blinked several times to wake herself up but lay utterly still and unmoving beneath the blanket, listening to the muffled voices downstairs. With no electricity, the building was always in darkness but from the moon and stars outside, Rose could tell it was still late at night however the voices downstairs grew louder with every minute. Rose decided to risk a look over the edge of the railing. She knew the fear she was experiencing was all in her head, left over from her previous life as a fragile human. After all, who could possibly harm her now? She was a strong, swift and bloodthirsty Vampaneze with a very short temper. No human would be a match for her. Even still, the voices from below concerned her. What if it was the police? What if they had found the body and somehow traced it back to her? Gingerly, Rose peered over the railing and adjusted her eyes to the darkness below. Three floors down, she could just make out a group of around six figures. Leaning over further, their conversation began to grow clearer.

"Oh, they won't come back. We can still use this space."

"How can you be sure? Freaks are supposed to be on the move, it's our nature. We've done our show here so let's move on now."

"I'm tired of having to be on the run, Mr Tall! Can't we spend a few more days here?"

Rose's eyes widened at the sight of the man who stepped out of the shadows into a patch of moonlight to answer him. He was extremely tall and thin and wore a top hat and dark clothes.

"Perhaps one more show, friends. Then it will be time to rest for a few months."

A very large man beside him grunted in approval.

"Fine with me," he said. Rose leant even further over the banister to get a closer look at the strange man. He appeared to have two stomachs and was standing beside a man who appeared to have none. Surely she was dreaming?

"What do you think Alexander?" piped up a woman addressing the man next to the figure with two stomachs.

"Sure I guess. Pasta?"

"Fine." His nonchalant response seemed to anger one of the crowd.

"It's not safe here anymore! Didn't you hear? There was a murder earlier tonight! The authorities will be on the lookout for anyone strange and we're going to be their first suspects!"

Rose reeled back in surprise as the group below her gasped in the darkness. The metal pole she had been resting on creaked and groaned loudly as it began to snap at its rusted joint. Rose held her breath, hoping the group hadn't noticed. Silenced filled the room as its occupants listened for the source of the loud creaking. Rose relaxed slightly as the whispering continued.

"Then it's not safe here," resigned Mr Tall, "we can't risk an investigation."

"Satisfied Hans?" Huffed the woman with phenomenally large teeth but her question was met with silence. Rose risked another peek over the railing, being careful not to lean on it, to see where the man had gone. She brought her face closer to the edge and looked over.

"Gotcha!"

Rose threw herself backwards in shock at coming face to face with the man named Hans who had silently climbed up the front of the seating areas as swiftly and as nimble as a monkey. Anger came out of her surprise and she retaliated quickly by grabbing the man by the scruff of his collar. She growled loudly, her teeth bared only inches from his face. Suddenly she felt herself being lifted off her feet by someone holding her around her waist. She twisted and cried to get out of the person grasp but they held her firmly.

"Who are you?" Came a booming voice from over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a top hat bobbing anxiously.

"Get off me!" Yelled Rose. With a quick jab of her sharp elbow, she managed to distract the man long enough to wriggle out of his grasp however as soon as she was free the rest of the group tackled her to the group. Before she knew what was happening, Rose found herself lying on the floor with five freaks sat on top of her. She wriggled in desperation before giving up, feeling tired and confused and knowing it was useless.

"Fat lump," she said sulkily to the man nearest her but to her annoyance he just chuckled and patted one of his two stomachs cheerfully.

"Who are you?" repeated Mr Tall calmly and more composed than last time. Rose decided she would probably be released quicker if she obeyed.

"My name is Rose," she huffed, "I'm a runaway." She chose to leave the bit about being a Vampaneze out, after all, what she had said wasn't a lie – it just wasn't the whole truth.

"And what are you running away from Rose?" The question caught Rose off guard. She had not expected the man's concern or sincerity. She mused over what it was she was running from. She could not tell them the truth without letting slip her whole story.

"My children's Home," she said, hoping they wouldn't detect the lie in her voice.

"Children's Home?" Mused Mr Tall bending down next to her to examine her face. Her cheeks were grubby and her hair was unwashed. A thick full fringe partially covered her narrowed eyes. Her _red_ narrowed eyes. _Crap_. Rose shut her eyes in frustration and gritted her teeth. She'd forgotten that she now had glowing crimson eyes! She heard Mr Tall sniff before straightening up.

"You don't look like an ordinary child to me, Rose." She felt the freaks on top of her grip her wrists and ankles tighter.

"If that is your real name..." he added. Rose opened her eyes and glared at the unnaturally tall man. He did not look afraid, nor did her look angry. He was staring at her with curiosity and slight compassion.

"It is," she sighed, "and I did live in a children's Home – before I died, that is." She broke off unsure how to continue. She wasn't sure if she felt comfortable discussing her past with such odd strangers.

"Go on," prompted one of the freaks sitting on top of her. He earned a disapproving glance from Mr Tall who simply watched her.

"I'm a monster" she whispered, "I'm evil and wicked and a freak!"

"A freak, you say?" said Mr Tall, calming the others with an impatient flick of his wrist. They had begun to object and protest but were silenced by his thoughtful expression.

"And why do-"

"I am! I am a freak! Look at me! Red eyes, bloodthirsty and long teeth and nails." Rose broke off to demonstrate her sharp fangs.

"Interesting," pondered the tall man beside her. He caught one of the freak's eyes on top of her and nodded. Rose looked up sharply at the stranger's unspoken conversation and immediately grew annoyed. She hated secrets, especially those delivered so obviously in front of her. It was so rude.

"I also have super strength," she boasted. Concentrating hard, she began to stand up. The five people holding her down were lifted up into the air before they sprang away from her. She chortled at the shock and horror displayed on their faces. Rose enjoyed the feeling of power her new found strength gave her.

"Vampire," stated Alexander Ribs, backing away from the girl.

"No. Look at the eyes. And her skin has a purple tinge to it. She is Vampaneze, evidently abandoned."

"But why would they create her then leave her?"

"Hello? I'm right here!" Growled Rose irritated that the group were acting as though she were not standing in front of them. They should be afraid of her. To demonstrate her point and to inspire fear, Rose grabbed hold of the metal rail with one hand and easily bent it out of shape.

"That's enough Rose. That's not your property," scolded Mr Tall. Rose's mouth fell open at his words. He was treating her just like any other disobedient teenager instead of a monster capable of ripping him in half. Mr Tall ignored her indignant expression unlike the rest of the group who eyed her warily.

"Where is Crepsley? He would know what to do with her. She can't be left here on her own, it would be dangerous."

"Yeah for them," said Rose sulkily, crossing her arms. She was annoyed at not being taken seriously. Where was the respect Steve earned when he encountered other freaks? She sighed unhappily at the thought of her former friend. He had no trouble gaining respect. If he had been here now the group would defiantly be afraid, in fact, most of them would probably not be alive. Reconsidering, Rose supposed it was better that he wasn't here. Steve had a tendency to lose his temper and act out when threatened. It was one of the things they had argued about.

"Then it is decided," said Mr Tall, interrupting her thoughts, "We take her back for one night to discuss with Larten. After that, it is none of our concern."

"Take me where? Who's Larten? I'm not going anywhere with you!" Cried Rose. She panicked as the group advanced and hit out with her nails in desperation. One of her fingers caught the woman on her arm and she hissed in pain.

"Leave me alone!" Shouted Rose, holding her fingers out in front of her like a weapon.

"Larten is our friend and a vampire. He will know where you came from and you will be able to go back. We won't harm you Rose."

"But I know where I came from! And I'm never going back!" Cried Rose. She jumped over the rows of seats as if they were hurdles and made for the stairs but Mr Tall blocked her way.

"How did you-?" began Rose, looking over her shoulder at the place where she'd left him. He had moved with an unnatural speed and agility that was almost not human.

"Please?" He asked. Rose felt the other freaks closing in although slightly more cautiously.

"Come back with us. You will be safe at the cirque – at least for one night," he added as though to please the others. Rose sensed they were not happy with Mr Tall's suggestion. She felt pleased that they feared her; that was how any normal person should react.

"All right, Mr Tall," said Rose graciously, "I will go with you. But only for one night." She followed the man down the stairs, enjoying the tense atmosphere her presence created enormously. She resisted the urge to spin around and shout _BOO_, deciding to keep up her dangerous and mysterious appearance.


	2. Mr Tall's tent

The Cirque was hot and lively. Bright colours lit up the early morning sky, covering the pinkish clouds with vibrant reds and yellows. Flags and buntings decorated the campsite, hanging between colourful caravans and gaudy tents. As it was very early morning, the site was empty but signs of its inhabitants were littered everywhere. Flyers for the Cirque blew about Rose's feet in the wind and burnt scorch marks on the ground were the only signs of the previous night's campfires. Now and again, Rose thought she caught sight of someone watching her but when she turned to face them, they disappeared. She reasoned it was the early morning light playing tricks on her and ignored it until Mr Tall caught one by the scruff of its neck and ordered it to find Mr Crepsley. Rose stared at it in astonishment and disgust. The little monster was wearing a mask covering most of its face a cloak hiding its body but she could clearly see two bright green eyes watching her and the skin around it was patched and discoloured as though someone had sewn bits of old material together to make it a face. She dodged it as it ran through her legs and off into the distance as soon as it was dropped.

"To my tent," ordered Mr Tall, "the rest of you can rest now. Larten and I will take over from here."

The rest of the group sighed in relief and separated although one or two of them glanced over their shoulders to watch the girl being led away. Rose shrugged he man's hand off her shoulder. She did not want him to be nice to her; it made it harder to dislike him. The inside of his tent was dull and plain, unlike its vibrant exterior. She sat down heavily on a comfy looking chair in the corner and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and was beginning to feel hungry again.

"Drink?" Offered Mr Tall from across the room.

"Any blood?" asked Rose audaciously without even opening her eyes.

"Didn't think so," she sighed when her request was met by silence. Just then, a cold breeze drifted through the tent, let in by a man opening the entrance.

"Hibernious," said the man, greeting his friend. Rose tittered at the man's strange name, alerting the visitor to her presence. She stood up by way of greeting but he barely acknowledged her. Instead, he turned to Mr Tall.

"You brought her _here_?"

"I thought it safest."

"Safest? This could be a trap! Perhaps they know that Darren is-" The man named Crepsley stopped, certain he'd said too much already in front of the young Vampaneze. He turned slowly to see her facing him with her hands on her hips.

"I'm _still_ right here," she snapped, gesturing at her position. Mr Crepsley walked forward and grabbed her shoulders.

"Who sent you here? Was it Mr Tiny?"

"Larten," said Mr Tall warningly. Rose blushed furiously at the man's impertinence. How dare he touch her! She wrinkled her nose and pushed the Vampire away from her.

"Gerroff! Mr who? I wasn't sent here, I was taken here! Against my will!" She added looking at Mr Tall meaningfully. Mr Crepsley studied Rose's face. Underneath the dirt which covered her face, she was pale apart from her blush. Her eyes had faded back to a hazel colour with only a hint of pink.

"When was your last meal?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" Said both Rose and Mr Tall in unison. Mr Crepsley turned to face to Mr Tall and spoke in a hurried tone.

"She's getting hungry Hibernious. She could get dangerous. Allow me to send Darren- I mean..." He trailed off helplessly.

"Evra?" Mr Tall offered.

"Evra to fetch my blood vials," he finished. Rose waited patiently while he went to find Erva. It was clear Mr Crepsley was trying to hide something from her. She planned to question him on his return. Meanwhile, to avoid awkward conversation with Mr Tall, she took her seat again and amused herself by letting her eyes wander around his tent. The room was filled with small, personal items whose only value was sentimental. There were several photo frames dotted around the place with pictures of him and various freaks. Rose found them oddly fascinating but grotesque. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose caught Mr Tall watching her. She quickly adjusted her expression and flashed him a broad smile however he interpreted it as something of a threat and quietly backed away. Fortunately, Mr Crepsley chose that moment to return and so Rose was saved from any apologies.

"Shouldn't be long," he said clasping his hands. Rose panicked as she noticed him turn to walk away from her. She had so many questions!

"Wait," she breathed, standing up. The two men turned to look at her in surprise.

"Err, I, um," Rose suddenly found herself unable to choose just one of the many questions that were currently swimming around her mind.

"Who are you?" she settled for. She saw Mr Crepsley almost crack a smile before his solemn and somewhat stern expression returned.

Mr Tall?" He offered, letting the tall man go first. Rose listened in awe while the man introduced the Cirque du Freak to her and told her of its history and stance in the ongoing Vampire/Vampaneze war.

"Completely neutral," he finished with a proud smile. Rose was impressed by his bravery. In her opinion it seemed safer to choose a side to be protected by however the Cirque clearly thought that by stepping out of the ring, it would avoid the fight and merely watch it take place. A little sceptical, Rose assumed the Cirque would eventually get sucked in sooner or later, especially since they were currently hosts to both a Vampire and a half - Vampaneze.

"My turn," said Mr Crepsley sarcastically. Rose did not appreciate his tone. In her opinion, the man seemed rude, arrogant and sardonic however she sat back and listened to his side of the story. Mr Crepsley explained how strained the relationship between the Vampires and the Vampaneze were and how her intrusion at the camp threatened the peace they currently held. More than a little offended, Rose pointed out that she hadn't wanted to come to the Cirque but Mr Crepsley interrupted her.

"Irrelevant girl. The point is you're here now and we can't risk the peace we have."

"Or the Cirque's neutral stance," added Mr Tall.

"Right," agreed Mr Crepsley, although he seemed less bothered about that part, "Rose, we need to know about your history. Why did you run away? Could it be possible that they're looking for you?"

Rose glared at the floor and ignored the prickling feeling behind her eyes, aware that the bridge of her nose suddenly felt tender. Sadness overwhelmed her as she remembered her final moments with Steve. The argument had been immense, they'd screamed at each other until their throats were raw. She'd accused him of being a murderer, a monster, a soulless killer. He'd reacted by throwing things, breaking the room around them. Their fight had echoed in the dungeons around them where they'd been staying. Rose shivered as she recalled how horrible the conditions had been down there; damp, dark and dismal with the stench of death filling her nostrils. Her short time spent among the Vampaneze had been a far cry from the adventures Steve had promised her. Bitter disappointment ached within her as she longed for the Steve she had known in her previous life. Looking up, Rose was aware the two men were still watching her carefully.

"He won't come after me," she choked, "I ran away for lots of reasons. You don't need to be concerned. He – they won't try to find me."

Mr Tall and Mr Crepsley exchanged a brief glance before the entrance to the tent opened once more. Through it stepped a boy around Rose's own age carrying several vials of blood. His skin was covered in snake's scales and he was wearing baggy trousers with a beanie. The boy handed the small bottle to Mr Crepsley, eyeing her carefully. Suddenly tired with everyone tip-toeing around her like she was some kind of unexploded bomb, Rose stuck her tongue out at the boy and grinned bashfully. Taken by surprise, the boy had no time to respond before Mr Tall ushered him out of the tent.

"Thank you Erva," called Mr Crepsley after him. He poured out the contents of a vial into a glass and handed it to Rose who took it greedily.

"Drink up," he ordered, "We can't have any midnight feasts can we?" He eyed Rose warily but she merely smiled at his comment.

"Better give me a tent away from the crowd then," she joked, downing the remainder of her glass. The morning sunlight drifted through the gaps in the canvas and lit up the room around them. Rose shifted the position of her chair slightly so that she was out of the beam of direct sunlight which fell across the floorboards. After so long spent under the ground in the dark and moist with the Vampaneze, sunlight itched her skin and turned it red easily. She did not offer an explanation to the questioning looks the men threw at her. Rose finished her glass and yawned. The night had been an eventful one and she was beginning to feel the effect of it.

"Got a spare bed – I mean, coffin?" She grinned sleepily. Mr Tall nodded and Mr Crepsley stood up to guide her to her resting place.

Outside, the morning sun shone through streams of white clouds which drifted carelessly through the open blue sky. Rose covered her red eyes with her hand to allow them to adjust to the bright light. Mr Crepsley led her through the colourful tents and caravans which besieged the site and through the freaks roaming around, many still wearing dressing gowns or slippers. Feeling a little nervous, Rose tried not to stare as she passed them however her cocky attitude returned after realizing they should be afraid of her. After all, they were only freaks – she was a _monster_. Too busy with trying to keep pace with Mr Crepsley, Rose didn't notice Erva the Snake boy watching her from outside his tent with his best friend Darren. The two watched on as their mentor led the strange girl with the crimson eyes to the furthest point of the Cirque, to a solitary black tent away from the other.

"I wonder what that about?" marvelled Darren.

"Probably find out sooner or later," reasoned Erva. He dodged back inside his tent, leaving Darren to watch the small black tent thoughtfully.


	3. Respect much?

The inside of the tent was small but cosy however there was barely any room to move around the large oak coffin centred in the middle of the space. Rose appreciated the colour of the tent. From the inside, it meant that she would be always kept in darkness which she liked. From the outside, it was a warning; it let the other freaks know she was different and therefore they would stay away. The black small tent on the edge of the campsite surely secured her privacy. The coffin was a nice touch too. Rose circled it, moving her hand along its smooth edges and flicking off any dust or dirt she found. The brown coffin was much nicer than the dingy, cramped black one she had before. This one looked almost new. She opened the lid, noting that it did not creak and admired its interior. A faded salmon pink silk lined the inside with a small cushion at the head. Along the side, it had pockets which Rose supposed would have been useful had she had any possessions to put in them, but it was the thought that counted.

Rose jumped into the coffin and quickly lay down, resting her head against the smooth silk pillow and closing her eyes. Outside she could hear pots and pans clanging in the distance as the freaks made their breakfast. Rose snuggled down, letting sleep overwhelm her, positive no dream could be as strange as the reality she was quickly leaving behind her.

Outside, Evra and Darren had sneaked close enough to the tent to hear Rose's faint snores. Resting against an old tree by the edge of the campsite, they discussed the strange girl sleeping inside the midnight coloured tent.

"He asked you to put a coffin in it?" Remarked Darren in surprise.

"Yeah, huge thing. I had to get Rhamus to help me," he laughed at the memory, "You should have seen his face when I asked. He still doesn't like the idea of you being here never mind another one of your lot!"

Darren looked thoughtful for several moments. So the girl must be another Vampire, that would explain the coffin, but why was she here?

"You'd think Crepsley was running a day care centre with all you baby Vampires running around the Cirque!" Erva sniggered at his joke.

"Hardly," came a cold voice from behind them. Neither boy had to turn around to know that Mr Crepsley was standing right behind them. Darren was the first to face the old Vampire. He offered him a somewhat lopsided grin before awkwardly digging Evra in the ribs. The snake boy swivelled on the spot to face Mr Crepsley.

"Oh, oh hi, Mr C..." he trailed off uncertainly, "I was just, that was just a ..." Evra looked at Darren pleadingly but the boy was carefully avoiding his gaze, his lips pressed together in an effort not to laugh.

"Nope. No way to recover..." said Erva uncomfortably. He left the scene as quickly as was possible for him, leaving Darren alone on the edge of the campsite with Mr Crepsley.

"Impudent boy," said Mr Crepsley gruffly. He stared at Darren as though he knew what his next question was going to be but decided to interrupt him before he even had a chance to ask.

"You shouldn't be hanging around back here. I have a few chores for you to do back at the Cirque." He placed his hands on his assistant's shoulders and pushed him in the direction of the crowds.

"But who-" Darren began but he was silenced by Corma Limbs asking if he wanted breakfast. He flatly refused, noting how she held a sharp kitchen knife over her fingers.

"Sausages?" She called again, hoping to tempt him but the thought only made Darren gag. Taking advantage of the boy's distraction, Mr Crepsley pushed a list of errands into his hand before taking off again.

"Hey!" Called Darren in protest after his master's retreating figure but Mr Crepsley only laughed.

A few hours later, Rose woke with a start. A loud noise outside had stirred her from her dreams. She opened her coffin's lid and rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand. Another explosion not far away made her jump again. What was that? Climbing out of her bed, Rose peeked through the gap in the canvas tent to make sure no one was around before stepping out. She stretched and yawned in the late afternoon sunlight and squinted to try and make out the figures in the next field. As she walked a little nearer, it became clear that the group were made up of freaks. Their unusual silhouettes stood out against the setting sun. In the middle of the next empty field, Rose could see thin wispy smoke rising from what looked like a guitar amplifier. Whoever the amp belonged to was cursing at the top of his voice.

"For Pete's sake Loaf Head! You've damaged it!"

"It was an accident," whined another freak in the group. Since no one was paying her any attention, Rose hurdled the fence to get a closer look. None of the freaks acknowledged her as she approached; they were too busy enjoying Erva's show. It appeared the snake boy had set up a bass guitar and an amplifier along with his pet snake Pip-poe and had been trying to attract a crowd with his music when one of the freaks had spilt a refreshment down the side of his sound system. Rose squeezed herself in between two freaks, careful not to touch either of them, to watch. The boy named Erva, the one who had fetched the vials, was currently trying to desperately wipe the amp clean, jumping back every time it produced sparks.

"Dammit," he cursed as another load of sparks caught him by surprise. The wires sizzled as he wiped them with his sleeve. One by one, the grumbling freaks began to move away as the sight bored them. Erva looked around him frantically.

"CD's are available in my tent guys!" He called as they left. Soon only a handful of freaks were left and Rose, who had been distracted with the spectacle, suddenly became aware that they were watching her.

"Can we help you?" said a woman with unusually teeth in a manner which quite clearly let Rose know she wasn't welcome there. Even Erva ceased trying to soak up his amp to stare at her. Rose looked around the small group. Each pair of eyes was locked with hers and she was stunned to see that none of the group looked afraid of her. She glared at them all, shoving her hands in her pockets. _The freaks should be trembling at my feet_, she thought angrily. The snake boy even had the cheek to try and smile at her! She cleared her throat and put on her most frightening grin. _This is what Steve would do_, she added to herself.

"I'm thirsty," she growled menacingly, looking each one in the eye meaningfully before glancing at their throats. As soon as she said it, Rose realised it was true. She felt a burning in her throat and her stomach ached. As she had hoped, the group began to look panicky and Loaf Head even turned to flee however he ran straight into Mr Crepsley's knees. Rose hadn't noticed him a moment ago. She assumed he had just flit.

"This way," he snarled, reaching over and pulling her away from the others. As soon as they were a safe distance away, he let go of her arm and strode ahead.

"I didn't think you'd be hungry again so quickly. You only fed a few hours ago." Mr Crepsley did not face Rose as he said this but she detected the disgust in his voice anyway.

"Yes, that was what they called me back then. I was the bloodthirsty one." Rose licked her lips in anticipation of her next meal. By his tent, Mr Crepsley paused and reached into his jacket to produce another vial of blood. He handed it to Rose wordlessly and looked away.

"I'm not a baby, Mr Crepsley. I don't need to be bottle fed," Rose handed him back the vial and crouched low.

"Let's hunt," she grinned but to her astonishment the older Vampire tackled her and pinned her against a tree, his sharp nails digging into her wrists.

"Listen Vampaneze," he threatened, "I don't know why you were sent here but listen to me. We. Do. Not. Hunt. Here. This is neutral ground and any threat to the Cirque's stance will be disposed of, do you understand?" He paused, allowing Rose time to nod cautiously.

"Now, you and I hunt very differently so until you leave or change your feeding habits, you will drink from my supply of blood vials. I will not let rouge Vampaneze like you destroy the safety of the Cirque. Clear?"

Rose pushed the man away from her and rubbed her wrists. The stupid Vampire was treating her like an infant!

"Whatever Crepsley," she growled.

"That's Mr Crepsley to you," snapped the proud Vampire hooking his thumbs through his button holes and standing up straight.

"Mister? Why should I respect your demands when you've shown no respect for me?"

"Oh!" Said Mr Crepsley smacking his forehead as though something obvious had just struck him, "Its respect you want?" Bringing his face just inches from hers, his tone was soft yet sarcastic.

"Well _earn_ some!" He snapped shoving the blood vial in her hands. Rose watched him leave with growing anger. She knew she was no match for the Vampire in fighting skills but perhaps one day she'd get the chance to beat him. Rose downed the glass of blood in one gulp and licked the congealed mess from around the edges of the bottle's rim. Unfortunately for now she would have to rely on the old man for food if he would not let her hunt.

Steve had warned her about Vampires when she had stayed with him. He had never mentioned names but she got the feeling he was familiar with some of them. He had told her how they were treacherous and disloyal and unlike the Vampaneze, they could lie. He often swore he would defeat all Vampires and Rose had usually scoffed at his promises however now she was beginning to see his point. At least the Vampaneze showed her proper respect. Mr Crepsley and the freaks showed her nothing but contempt. Fear was the closest the freaks had ever come to respecting her.

Throwing the glass vial against the ground, Rose watched it smash with satisfaction. She looked up from the mess on the forest's floor to see a pair of eyes watching her through the bracken.

"Hey!" She called but the figure turned and fled. Rose kicked the broken glass out of the way and chased the retreating stranger. It was becoming clear that she was faster than he was as she caught up to him within minutes. It was a boy, wearing dark clothes with a red leather jacket and he seemed to be trying to flit. Every now and again he would blur and speed up before stopping a stumbling only to carry on running away. As he neared the bustle of the campsite, Rose felt her chance to catch him slipping away.

"Oh no you don't!" she snapped, reaching out to grab his jacket. She caught him by his collar and pulled him backwards. The two stumbled to the floor where Rose promptly sat on him.

"Hah!" She laughed triumphantly. She wriggled back a little to allow the boy to roll over. Beneath her the boy groaned and rubbed his knee as he turned to face his capture. Rose gasped with horror as she realised who she'd tackled and she leapt away from him as quickly as she could.


	4. The phantom and his friends

Collapsing outside her tent, Rose struggled to breathe. Shock and terror had winded her and she bent over doubled, clutching her stomach in an effort to catch her breath. Even as a child, she had never believed in ghosts or spirits but she could not think of any other explanation for what she had just seen. Hearing voices nearing her, she fled inside her tent where she sat hunched beneath her coffin, shaken. She knew Darren Shan was dead so how was it possible that she had just rugby tackled him to the floor! Flickers of her old life flashed before her eyes as memories came flooding back. Steve's face, full of sadness as he told her his best friend was dead. The school assembly where her old head teacher cried during his eulogy. The funeral and the grieving mourners and his coffin! Rose rubbed her forehead as she remembered how it had been an open casket. She had payed her respects along with the rest of his class, pausing briefly in front of his pale, lifeless body to utter a small prayer. Her new life as a Vampaneze was causing her to question everything she had believed in as a human. Was it possible that the dead could walk again?

Outside she thought she heard a voice calling her name but she couldn't be certain. The voice was so far away, it could be mistaken for the cry of the wind rushing through the trees which lined the campsite's border so close to her tent. Rose tried to brush off her feelings of horror with the fact that she knew it was not possible for the dead to return to life however the fact that her and Steve were living contradictions of this pulled her fears back again. As the voice outside returned, Rose covered her ears in an attempt to block it out.

"Go away," she tried to shout but her tone was feeble and quiet. She hugged her knees and listened but it seemed as though the owner of the voice had obeyed her wishes. Alone in her little black tent, Rose suddenly laughed to herself. _Look at me_, she thought, _hiding from a ghost! _Standing up, she brushed herself down and removed a few stray twigs from her hair. Rose grimaced; she was acting like a child. Resuming her usual composed posture, she advanced towards her tent's opening and threw it open to embrace the early evening's setting sunlight. Outside stood Darren Shan. Rose screamed and pulled the canvas shut again. Her heart was in her throat and her stomach was twisted in knots of fear. Panting heavily she tried to scream again but no sound came out of her mouth.

"Rose?" called the phantom from outside. He sounded uncertain and a little embarrassed.

"Um, Rose Leighton? We were in the same class? I think..." Inside the tent, Rose's heart skipped a beat. The ghost remembered who she was? She had thought no one even knew her name in that school. Trembling a little but trying not to show it, Rose stepped into the evening's light with her chin held a little higher than usual.

"Yes?" she said as though nothing had happened. Her calm manner was met with a surprised expression but then Darren grinned.

"It _is_ you," he smiled bashfully, "I wasn't certain. You, um, ran away quite quickly."

Rose stared at the ground and hoped her cheeks had not turned as red as they felt.

"Yes... well..." she muttered, "You fright- you surprised me. You're supposed to be dead remember. I wasn't expecting to see you this side of the ground." Her last comment had an edge so sharp to it, Daren was surprised he hadn't cut himself but he chose to ignore it, sensing Rose was a little fright- surprised to see him.

"Well, yes, I can see that but I didn't really have a choice. I couldn't just disappear. I had to make it look as though I'd died first."

Rose remembered how Steve had explained this all to her after he'd 'died'.

"Oh," was all she could manage. The pain in the boy's eyes clearly displayed how difficult it had been for him to fake his demise. In that way, she and Steve could hardly compare as neither of them had a real family to leave behind. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew nearly blew the two sideways. When Rose had combed her hair out of her eyes with her fingers, she saw Mr Crepsley standing in front of her glaring at Darren with a stern look in his eye.

"What did I say about venturing over here?" he said menacingly looming over his assistant. Darren merely shrugged and studied his feet.

"Um... not to?" he guessed. His answer was met with a stern nod from the Vampire in front of him.

"Correct," snapped Mr Crepsley. Rose sensed an opportunity to wind the man up and grabbed it with both hands.

"Oh, me and Darren were just catching up, you know," she smiled sweetly, "reminiscing about old times and that. Remember that time when-?" she broke off giggling, "Remember when-?" she laughed. Darren merely looked at her in bemusement.

"You don't remember that?" Rose laughed, keeping one eye in Mr Crepsley's growing impatience.

"You two know each other?" reflected Mr Crepsley watching Darren carefully.

"Acquaintances," started Darren but Rose interrupted him.

"Old mates," she grinned, raising her eyebrows. Mr Crepsley said nothing but narrowed his eyes in Rose's direction. It was obvious he didn't trust her, especially around Darren for some reason. Rose enjoyed teasing him but sensed Darren was becoming a bit uncomfortable. She decided to change the subject.

"So any chance of a bite to eat?"

"No!" said Mr Crepsley and Darren quickly but Rose frowned and sniffed the air.

"But I can smell a barbeque," she whined. The two Vampires opposite her visibly relaxed.

"The Cirque is serving dinner. I don't expect they'll be happy to sit with you though but I suppose we can spare a sausage," sighed Mr Crepsley.

"Thanks Crepsley," sang Rose. She walked over to join Darren and prodded him in the direction of the Cirque.

The autumn sun took its time in setting, as if reluctant to leave the world and hand the day over to the darkness of night. The residents of the Cirque took advantage of the extra hours of light and stayed out later, chatting and eating. Rose sat a little way from the rest, deep in thought, giving the others around her plenty of time and opportunity to discuss her presence behind her back. The only two not in attendance at the campfire were Mr Tall and Mr Crepsley. Darren sat with his friends, Erva and Rebecca, who were eager to hear about his encounter with the Cirque's most recent guest.

"Weird, huh?" said Erva, "Do you think she was a Vampire-"

"Vampaneze," corrected Darren.

"Vampaneze at your school?" Darren looked over his shoulder to where the violet skinned, red eyed Rose sat and shook his head.

"Nah," he said turning back, "she was different in school. She was in all my classes but I never spoke to her. She seemed really shy and kept herself to herself. Didn't have any friends, I don't think but Steve mentioned her sometimes. I think she knew him." Rebecca peeked over Darren's shoulder to look at Rose.

"Doesn't look shy to me. Just bored and a little annoyed." The trio turned to face Rose again but this time she caught them looking before they could avert their eyes. She raised her eyebrows in acknowledgment and went back to snapping twigs between her fingers.

"Yeah, she's changed. She used to be all polite and timid. Now she's acting sort of like..." he trailed off before shaking his head. Erva and Rebecca leaned forward in curiosity.

"Like who?" they asked in unison. Darren looked up to meet their inquisitive gaze.

"Well," he said, "kind of like how my friend Steve used to act. He used to be kind of cheeky and sometimes came across rude. He meant nothing by it though," he added quickly, "actually, he was quite funny sometimes. He used to call our teacher, Mr Kersey, 'Kooky Kersey'," He laughed at the memory but his friends said nothing. Rebecca just raised an eyebrow and looked over at Rose. Rose, who had grown tired of being constantly watched by the group, got up as she saw Rebecca staring at her and joined them.

"Where's Creepy Crepsley?" she asked as she sat down. The group looked at her in surprise.

"What?" Rose laughed at their bemused expressions, shrugging when they didn't reply. She turned to smile at Rebecca and introduced herself when she noticed the girl was looking at her guardedly.

"Don't worry, I just fed," she grinned toothily but unsurprisingly, the sight of her long and sharp incisors didn't put Rebecca's mind at rest.

"Err, _Mister_ Crepsley is with Mr Tall in his tent I think. Did you want to speak with him?" asked Darren, indicating the man's tent and whereabouts.

"Nah, it's just nice to know he's not constantly _watching_ me. Unlike _some_," she added meaningfully, eyeing the group next to them, "You'd think he suspected me of some horrible crime or something, the way he acts," She laughed at the three's awkward expressions and guessed that they were probably imagining what horrors she was capable of.

"Don't worry," she said reassuringly, "I only kill for food." Rebecca looked sideways at Erva who made a face.

"Sometimes for fun," furthered Rose, enjoying the uncomfortable silence immensely. Suddenly Darren stood up and beckoned for Rose to follow him.

"Um, can I have a word Rose?" He waited for the girl to stand before leading her away from the group. With no idea how to approach the subject tactfully, he decided just to jump in and speak his mind.

"Look, Rose, it's not that we don't enjoy your company, but..."

"You don't enjoy my company," stated Rose.

"No, no, we do," said Darren hurriedly, "but sometimes you make people feel a little, well, uncomfortable. I know you don't mean to though," he finished quickly before Rose could interrupt. However Rose simply smiled and nodded graciously.

"Of course Darren, I understand," she smirked as Darren sighed with relief, "Do I make _you_ feel uncomfortable?" Caught off guard, Darren said nothing, only opening and closing his mouth several times.

"Well?" probed Rose patiently. She noted somewhat proudly how red the boy's cheeks were turning. Annoyingly, Darren was saved an answer by the intrusion of Mr Crepsley. Not even bothering to acknowledge Rose, he swept over and hauled Darren off, muttering something about lessons in learning to flit.

"Bye then," Rose called after them. She turned on her heel to march back to her tent but nearly fell over something when she tried.

"What the -?" she muttered, looking down at her feet. A pair of bright green eyes stared back at her. They belonged to a grey-skinned, short, hooded monster. The little thing looked up at Rose with an enquiring expression. It had no nose and its mouth was a jagged cut across its face stretched into a seemingly friendly grin.

"Oh, um, hello." Smiled Rose awkwardly. She bent down to pat the creature on its head but it dodged her hand and ran away.

"Strange thing," she mused. She straightened up and groaned inwardly as she saw Darren's friend, Rebecca, coming towards her. Plastering what she thought was a friendly smile on her face, Rose walked over to greet her, secretly wishing she were anywhere but there.


	5. What to do about Rose

"Interesting," crooned a voice in the darkness. The great stone chambers only light came from a few naked burning flames which lined the walls. Shadows fell across the thrones situated at the head of the hall so that the nearest one's occupant was masked in the darkness. His sigh echoed around the vacant room, filled with unhappiness, impatience and something else. Harkat Mulds could not detect the third emotion in his current master's sigh. It sounded similar to grief or perhaps annoyance. He shuffled a little closer as the figure's index figure curved and beckoned him. Only his hand was visible in the sparse, fading glow thrown from the candles. The fist was suddenly clenched and Harkat made sure he avoided it in case the chair's inhabitant threw one of his common fits of anger which were becoming more frequent lately.

"She saw you?" said the figure. His voice was low and curious. Harkat nodded and stepped back, suddenly afraid of the boy.

"But she doesn't suspect you are following her?" Harkat shook his head hurriedly. He had made sure that the young half-Vampaneze did not know he was around. He had been very careful about following her, keeping only to the shadows.

"Good," said the voice again. The chair creaked as the boy sitting in it shifted his weight. His fist unclenched and rested on the gold armrest. He laughed softly, a chilling sound which sent shivers down Harkat's spine.

"Well done Harkat," said the boy, pleased with his servant's work, "you can go back to the freak show now and follow her exactly as I've told you." The figure's red eyes followed the little monster as it retreated down the length of the hall, into the shadows.

"Light the fireplaces before you leave," he called after it and suddenly the room was filled with light as an unseen hand held a match to wood at the far end of the hall. Harkat bowed to his temporary master as he closed the door to the chamber behind him.

Steve Leonard's face glowed orange in the warm glow of the fire. He settled himself in the chair at the top end of the great hall and frowned. So Rose had met Darren at last. The latest news of her brought to him by his spy at the Cirque troubled him. He had no reason to suspect that the information was false; after all, he had promised his informer that his true identity would be revealed to him if his complied and he knew Harkat was desperate to find out who he was in his previous life. Steve laughed at the idea of Harkat believing him. Even if he had known, he wouldn't have told him.

No, he was concerned that Rose's opinion of the Vampires might change after meeting Darren. While she had been with him, Steve had worked hard to show her that Vampires were evil and cunning however he knew that if Darren was as 'goody two shoes' as he was while he was human, Rose might start to doubt his word. Fortunately, that old creep Crepsley seemed to be doing a good job of turning her against the Vampires all by himself. With any luck, Steve thought Rose would probably get rid of Crepsley for him if he continued to annoy her. Tapping his foot impatiently, Steve wondered why he was even bothering to spy on Rose. He told himself he defiantly did not care for her, especially after their last argument, but still he found himself using Mr Tiny's Little People to tail her.

Steve made an irritated noise and stood up. He could not erase the stupid girl's face from his mind! At odd times during the day, her name would pop into his head and he would often find himself questioning what she was doing and if she was alright. At night was worse. Thoughts would swim around his head, not letting him rest and every time he closed his eyes, he could picture her face behind his lids.

Pacing the length of the room, Steve became determined to rid the girl from his mind. Around him, the candles began to wear down until the flame was balancing on only a stub of wick and the fire in the fireplace ran out of wood. Unaffected by his loss of sleep, Steve sat up the length of the night, plotting and scheming over ways to dispose of Rose. Several times during the long night, Steve battled with his conscious, each time letting his anger win. A small, quiet part of him wanted to keep Rose all to himself but his memory reminded him that he had already tried that, and failed. Another part of him wished Rose would return to him out of her own will but Steve knew than now she had met Darren, her opinion of Vampires was more than likely to change and she'd turn against him too – just like everybody else. Like a mad-man, Steve paced the hall several times clutching his head or his heart and trying to come to a conclusion. He had never known himself to be so undecided and confused. He knew he was usually rash and impulsive – two qualities ,which Kooky Kersey often took pleasure in telling him, made him a bad influence so why was he taking so long to decide what to do about Rose. A small part of Steve's conscious already knew why, but he tried to block it out by replacing the nagging feeling in his heart with feelings of rage and annoyance. Steve hated how one person could have such utter control over him and not even care. The girl literally left him feeling light headed and infatuated and she wasn't even here! Steve pounded the stone wall with his fist as he thought of Rose laughing and joking with a bunch of _freaks_.

"I'm going to make her pay," he told the wall as he rested his forehead against it. Closing his eyes, another image of Rose's smiling face appeared causing Steve to cry aloud in frustration and pain before he finally fell to the floor in an attempt to rest.


	6. Chat with Rebecca

"Wheres Darren?" asked the girl bravely as she approached the Vampaneze. Rose rolled her eyes at the sight of the Rebecca. What did she think she had done with him? Eaten him?

"Crepsleys taken him somewhere," she replied vaguely, "Vampire business I guess." The girl opposite her just nodded, making no attempt to further the conversation. At last, growing tired of the awkward silence between them, Rose spoke.

"So, what are you doing here?" She asked boldly, referring to the fact that she was not obviously a freak. It was a moment or two before Rebecca realised what she meant.

"Oh," she said, unravelling something behind her back. Suddenly a long, slender tail crept over her shoulder and swished in the air. Rose stared at it in amazement, her eyes widening to take in the strange sight.

"I keep it hidden," said Rebecca, "it gets in the way mostly." The tail hung dejectedly in the air in a sad loop.

"Cool," said Rose at last, "that must come in really handy."

Rebecca's face brightened a little and her tail began to swish again before falling to the floor.

"I, um, I haven't mentioned this to Darren yet though," she half whispered as though he could hear her.

"So I'd appreciate it if you didn't, um, tell him or anything." Rose stared at the girl, baffled. So the two weren't as close friends as she'd initially thought.

"Sure, I guess," she promised, still perplexed.

"Thanks," breathed Rebecca with relief, sitting down and gesturing for Rose to do the same. Rose wasn't entirely sure she wanted to sit and presumably spend the remainder of her evening with the monkey girl in either uncomfortable silence or through a series of awkward questions but she decided it was better than the alternative. Her tent was nice, but there wasn't much to do in there besides sleep. She sat opposite the girl and her eyes wandered back to her tail.

"Please don't stare," said Rebecca uncomfortably, tucking it behind her. Rose averted her gaze accordingly, waiting for the girl to finish bandaging it back beneath her skirt.

"So you knew Darren," she said brightly, changing the subject. Rose fiddled with the hem of her sleeve and nodded. How much had Darren said? Back in high school, she'd been a quiet nobody with no friends and barely any acquaintances. Her new life as a Vampaneze was meant to erase all those memories, giving her a chance to be who she really was. She hoped Darren hadn't spoilt her opportunity by revealing her pathetic past. She decided to reinvent herself a little.

"Not really, we were only in the same class. Most of my friends were at another school," she bragged, hoping Rebecca believed her.

"Oh right," said the girl, "you must miss them though." She threw Rose a sympathetic glance only to look quickly away when Rose ignored her.

"No way," she scoffed, "I don't miss them at all. I prefer my own company. I don't need him around me all the time. Idiot..." she muttered, furiously decapitating the heads of daisies from their stems.

"Him?" asked Rebecca before immediately wishing she hadn't. Rose's faced paled a little as she realised her mistake.

"My... one of my old friends," she replied, feigning disinterest, "Leopard." Rose half smiled at the sound of Steve's school nick name. Rebecca, who had heard Darren mention his friend's sobriquet many times instantly made the connection.

"Not... Steve Leonard?" she mused. Rose's head snapped up at the mention of his name said aloud.

"You know him?" she asked quickly. Annoyingly, Rebecca just shrugged.

"Old friend of Darrens'," she said carefully watching Rose's reaction.

"Oh, of course," muttered Rose, annoyed at herself for thinking otherwise. She glared at the ground for several minutes, furious with herself.

"Were you two close?" asked Rebecca quietly. Rose covered her mouth with her fist to stop herself snapping at Rebecca. She knew the girl was only being sympathetic. Usually her concerned tone of voice would have made Rose even madder but suddenly something inside her broke. Why did she feel the need to lash out at those trying to be kind to her? Rose looked up at the monkey-girl and tried to smile. She knew she was only being polite.

"Yeah," she half whispered, her tone soft and unhappy.

"Well, I bet he misses you too," said Rebecca.

"Unlikely," said Rose in a dismissive voice. Rebecca had no idea, but Rose knew Steve probably hated her right now. Suddenly Rebecca stood up, indicating by her watch that it was getting late. Rose shook her head when asked if she wanted to come back to Erva's tent before bed, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. Rebecca looked over her shoulder sadly at the lone figure in the grass. Rose looked so unhappy and yet it was clear she didn't want to talk about her past. Despite the fact that she was still grieving over her lost friends, or friend, Rebecca could plainly see that she was happy with her choice of becoming a Vampaneze. Everything about the girl suggested she was proud of her new identity.

Back in Erva's tent, the snake-boy was joined by his best friend at the Cirque, Darren. Rebecca smiled in their direction before sinking into one of the bean bags opposite them, still thinking about Rose.

"Hey Becky, where've you been?" said Darren, his mouth full of jelly beans. A bag of one of the Cirque's products was split open on the bed between him and Erva and only a few remained.

"Talking to Rose," she replied ambiguously. The boy's mouths fell open in response, allowing a few jelly beans to escape.

"Rose?" Said Darren in surprise. He then to face Erva accusingly, "You let her wander off with _Rose_?"

"Hey, he didn't _let_ me wander off," said Rebecca in protest before Erva had a chance to swallow his sweets, "I went over to talk to her. She seemed upset. What's the big deal?"

"She's dangerous Becky, you can't just go off with her, something could have happened!" Rebecca stared at the boy in confusion.

"Wait a minute, you didn't mention this before. You said she was quiet and shy! Why is she so _dangerous_ all of a sudden?" Darren got up and shut the tent's canvas door, checking no one was listening in before returned to the huddle. He beckoned them to lean in closer theatrically before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"Mr Crepsley told me this afternoon," he began, "not to trust her. Its possible she could be in league with the Vampaneze and therefore a danger to Vampires _and_ freaks." Erva leaned backwards and gasped but Rebecca quickly told him to shut up.

"He also told me that she feeds more regularly than most and she might not be able to contain herself if she gets hungry quickly. Thats why he's not too happy about her staying here. She's a threat at mealtimes! Crepsley's got her drinking out of his personal supply for now though," he finished.

"Oh yeah," cut in Erva, "I had to fetch his blood vials the night she arrived. It was disgusting."

"Why can't she just hunt like Mr Crepsley?" asked Rebecca, perplexed.

"Vampaneze don't hunt like Vampires," explained Darren in a low voice, "they _kill_ their prey." Both Erva and Rebecca sat back at his last comment, their hands simultaneously flying to their throats subconsciously. Rebecca was the first to recover and reached over to push Darren off the edge of Erva's bed.

"Leave her alone you," she scoffed, "Rose is fine. She just misses her friend, thats all."

"She's got a _friend_?" said Erva incredulously, earning an indignant look from Rebecca and a smirk from Darren.

"Yes, she has friends," snapped Rebecca throwing a forgotten jelly bean at Erva. She turned to Darren who instantly wiped the smile off his face and tried to look sympathetic.

"She knew your friend, Steve." This remark earned a reproachful look from the boy.

"My Steve?" he said in disbelief.

"Oh, I don't think he was yours," said Rebecca meaningfully but Darren just shook his head.

"No, we're best mates, he would have told me." Rebecca shrugged and moved towards the exit in the split canvas. Outside the stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky and threads of grey clouds covered a gibbous moon above the Cirque.

"Just don't be so quick to judge her, Darren," said Rebecca as she ducked out of the tent, "night boys." She called from outside.

As she crossed the vacant yard to her tent, Rebecca spotted some movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Rose, finally moving from her spot in the grass to go to bed. Paying heed to Darren's earlier words of warning, she decided it was better safe than sorry to hide in the shadows until she'd left. Although she was sure Rose wouldn't harm her, she felt comforted knowing she was hidden from view. Finally Rose moved out of sight around the back of a caravan to her tent and Rebecca felt it was safe to move. She stepped out into the moonlight but paused again as she detected someone else nearby. Harkat Mulds was moving quietly between the tents, keeping pace with Rose. He dodged from one shadow to the next, crouching low and ducking every so often. Intrigued, Rebecca followed him a small way and discovered that he was in fact following Rose. Rebecca hid in the shadows of a nearby tree and watched Harkat follow Rose until she reached her tent which was camouflaged with the darkness around them. When Rose finally disappeared through the flap, Harkat moved a little closer and took up position not far away as tough he were preparing to spend the night nearby. Shaking her head, Rebecca made her way back to her tent. Harkat was a strange little thing.


	7. A choice

Rose woke to the sound of birds singing sweetly just outside her tent. They were so loud that she could hear them quite clearly through the closed lid of her coffin. Groaning, she turned over and covered her ears but nothing helped, the bird's song penetrated her attempts and reached her ears. The stupid birds! She had been enjoying a lovely dream before they interrupted it. Rose pushed the coffin's lid upwards and tried to recall what it had been about. She remembered dark halls and fire, damp and... The Vampaneze. At last the final image of her dream swam back in to her mind, begging her to return to sleep so she could dream once more about Steve. Rose was just about to obey her nagging feelings and give in to sleep when the birds struck up their dawn chorus again right outside. The black colouring of her tent convinced her it was very early in the morning.

"Argh!" Rose leapt out of her coffin, still in her pyjamas and stormed over to the entrance to the tent. She flung the canvas doorway aside and promptly yelled at the birds to go back to bed. Her eyes still shut against the sun light, Rose wasn't able to see the rest of the Cirque watching her in amusement however she was able to hear a few titters and sniggers belonging to the freaks nearest her. She visored her eyes against the light with her hand and blinked several times before finally opening her eyes wide. Across the field in front of her, about a dozen residents stared at her in pleasant surprise. The nearest, Mr Crepsley, opened his mouth in surprise before closing it again to prevent himself from laughing.

"I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public," he said straight-faced. Rose threw him a withering look before flouncing back inside her tent. Not one to be embarrassed easily, she dressed quickly and headed out into the morning fresh air to hunt down some breakfast. She really fancied a bagel.

As she drew nearer the centre of the Cirque, three shapes sitting outside Erva and Darren's tent became visible. Two were the tent's owners and the third was Rebecca. She waved to Rose when she saw her and Rose noticed Erva dig her sharply in the ribs. Smiling at the chance to irritate the snake boy, Rose sauntered over and wedged herself between Darren and Erva with considerable force.

"Morning," she yawned as she stretched her arms out behind her, finally resting them on the boy's shoulders. Darren laughed and wriggled out of her grasp whereas Erva sat frozen at the thought of the Vampaneze being so close to his neck.

"Man, I'm starving," yawned Rose again looking poignantly at Erva who swiftly offered her his breakfast.

"No thanks," grinned Rose, "actually I really fancy some cheese and a big, fat loaf of bread." She looked over the courtyard wistfully to where Rhamus Twobellies was standing with the desired meal on one of his plates. Suddenly Rose felt a sharp kick on one of her shins. She looked down to see a small man with an unbelievably large forehead which more than made up for his lack of height, staring at her and waving his fist.

"Oi! What did you call me?" The man was swaying on his feet in anticipation of the fight he so clearly wanted. Rose chuckled at the sight.

"And which dwarf are you?" She giggled. Darren and the other two cast her a disapproving glance.

"I'm gonna ram my head up your-" The man was cut off by Gertha leading him away quickly before he could do any damage.

"Grumpy then," Rose called after him. She turned to hi-five Darren but was met with a reproachful stare.

"That wasn't very nice," said Darren quietly. He hated arguing with anyone especially with someone whom Mr Crepsley had labelled as Bloodthirsty.

"Oh calm down, Shan. He started it," Rose stood up, clearly affronted and wandered over to the food tent to calm her nerves. She didn't really want to pick a fight; she just wasn't a morning person. It wasn't her fault they didn't appreciate sarcasm. Picking up a bread roll, she turned to the man behind her.

"**I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me," she winked. The man said nothing but rolled his eyes and walked past her. Behind her, Mr Tall chuckled. Rose turned on the spot and smiled at him, pleased to have found someone at last who appreciated her sense of humour. Mr Tall dipped his hat respectively and helped himself to some cereal. Rose watched the man in fascination, forgetting someone had once told her it was rude to stare. The Cirque's ringmaster was a giant, at least 7ft and very slim. He had kindly eyes and wry smile which was fixed permanently into his expression. Before he left, he turned to Rose.**

"**I'd like a word with you in my tent after your breakfast if you don't mind?" His request was poised as a question but Rose knew she couldn't refuse. She nodded and watched him tower over the others as he walked through the early morning throng back to his tent. The man was clearly respected and well liked but on his return to his tent, he was approached by no one and nobody made an effort to wish him good morning. Rose wished people would treat her like that. She wanted respect but didn't want to have the hassle of engaging others with mundane conversations or pleasantries. Back at the Vampaneze hide-out, she had watched Steve receive that kind of respect day after day although it was earned by fear and awe rather than admiration and high opinions. Rose reflected on her approach to earning respect from the freaks. It was clear they did not respond well to the knowledge she was Vampaneze and it was tiring having to keep looking as though she about to pounce on her prey constantly. She finished her breakfast in silence, mulling over the term 'respect' and taking care not to catch the eyes of anyone around her. The meal was enough, but not satisfying. Rose longed for the taste of fresh blood on her lips, the sweet scent of the elixir so carefully contained within each of the freaks around her. One freak made the mistake of looking at Rose directly. Licking her lips in anticipation, Rose wondered what it would be like to open the bag of blood, spilling the contents across the dew encrusted grass and drinking the warm substance amongst the Cirque's inhabitants. She guessed most would run but perhaps a few, Darren and Crepsley, would try and stop her. Rose dragged her gaze away from the bag of blood to see where Darren was. He was still sitting outside his tent and would undoubtedly be first to tackle her if she tried to launch her attack. Sighing unhappily, she thought better of it and decided to distract herself by finding Mr Tall's tent. **

**The freaks parted quickly but calmly as Rose approached, taking care to move out her way but not attract her attention. Each had been warned either by Mr Crepsley or through whispers and rumours of the half-Vampaneze's potential and bloodlust. A little afraid and disgusted, they watched her move through the parting bustle towards the ringmaster's tent. Her skin was paling rapidly as her hunger rose and so her cheeks only had a faint purple tinge to them. Her eyes were crimson and they gleamed in the rising sun's light. Ignoring their stares, Rose held her chin high, not bothering to glance in the freak's direction. Her attention was occupied with trying to find the way to Mr Tall's tent. It would be highly embarrassing to get lost with so many people watching. Finally the brightly coloured top came into view and Rose moved toward it gratefully. Hiberneous Tall was sitting on the steps leading up to his small but spacious home. He looked up and allowed a smile to bless his face as Rose drew nearer. She smiled back and Mr Tall thought she looked a lot less intimidating when she smiled. He beckoned her over and indicated that she should sit by patting the space on the step beside him with his hand. Rose sat and stared at him expectantly but the man did not speak or look at her for several minutes. Finally he said,**

"**And how are you this morning Miss Leighton?"**

"**Very well thank you Mr Tall," replied Rose copying his polite way of speaking but not in a mocking manner. Again, it was a while before he spoke. Rose sighed, a little frustrated by his silence, and let her mind wander, exploring the possibilities as to why she was here. The most likely seemed obvious; they wanted her to leave. However the man beside her did not seem in a great hurry to dismiss her. He looked perfectly at ease, relaxing on his tiny porch, watching the Cirque's morning activities unravel before him. A small smile was playing on his think lips. After what seemed like hours to Rose, he turned very slowly to watch her. **

"**I like you," he said, "you remind me of when I was young and stupid." Rose decided to ignore the insult in his words as he had admitted to being fond of her first.**

"**Um, thanks," she replied, unsure of how to react. The man simply smiled and nodded before looking into the distance again. This time however, Rose decided to intervene before Mr Tall had a chance to get lost in his thoughts once more. **

"**Why have you asked me here, Mr Tall?" She quizzed. Now Mr Tall gave her his full attention. **

"**To give you a choice," he said firmly. All humour had disappeared from his eyes and the friendly stare had been replaced with a seriousness. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his hands. Bowing his head, he continued.**

"**Mr Crepsely insists that your presence here puts the Cirque in danger. I myself bear no grudge against you personally but I must put the Cirque before anything else, therefore it would be wise of me to ask you to leave." He paused for a while, letting his words sink in. Rose looked up at him in anticipation but the man said nothing, only looking at her.**

"**But...?" she ventured, sensing the man's speech was not over.**

"**But?" he replied, "Why should there be a but? Do you feel you have earned an alternative? To give you an alternative would be giving you a chance, Rose. Do you think you have earned a chance?"**

"**I've done nothing wrong!" Protested Rose, shocked and annoyed by the man's accusations. Mr Tall laughed humourlessly.**

"**Rose, since you have arrived you have done nothing but validate inherent mistrust of strangers.** **We have given you food, shelter, blood... yet you have continued to be a begrudging presence here."**

**Rose looked at him, completely baffled. She could not recall doing anything wrong.**

"**I've only been here a little over a day! How could I have done anything wrong?" She stood up in frustration, "Of course I'm grateful for the things you've given me – the tent, the coffin – they were all lovely gestures and ok, maybe I could have said thank you, but apart from that? What did I do?" At this, Mr Tall also rose.**

"**Perhaps we could continue this conversation in private," he said, opening the canvas entrance and ducking inside. Rose followed resentfully. **

"**Well?" she demanded once inside. Mr Tall sat behind a large, important looking desk and watched her.**

"**Mr Tiny payed me a visit last night," he said. Rose waited for him to persist but he did not.**

"**Who?" She sighed impatiently. Was this a sort of mind game?**

"**I believe you stayed with him when you were with the Vampaneze?" Furthered Mr Tall, giving nothing away. Rose frowned. Her short time spent amongst the Vampaneze was hazy and confused. She had spent a large amount of time in the dark or else in back alleys drinking blood or fighting. She did not recognize the name.**

"**No I stayed with Ste- I don't know him." She finished, looking away. Mr Tall made an impatient noise and Rose realised he thought she was lying.**

"**I don't," she continued in an effort to prove her case, "Mr who? Tiny?"**

"**Short. Fat. Bald?" Described Mr Tall. Suddenly an image popped into Rose's head.**

"**Oh yes," she said, "I've seen him before. We never spoke though. I didn't even know his name. He only spoke to the others or to Ste- my friend." Mr Tall narrowed his eyes at the final part of her sentence.**

"**Your friend?" He questioned but Rose only nodded, saying nothing. Finally Mr Tall seemed to give up. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, more cheerful this time.**

"**Mr Tiny cleared up the matter that Larten – that is, Mr Crepsley – and I have been discussing these past few days. He assures us you are harmless and he wishes you well on your future endeavours although he did warn us you do get quite thirsty." He chuckled but Rose was suddenly distracted by the rising burning feeling in her throat that had occurred at the word 'thirsty'. **

"**And so Rose, I am willing to offer you a choice but only if your mood improves."**

"**My mood?" said Rose sulkily. Mr Tall raised his eyebrows at her tone and she realised what he meant, "Oh! My **_**mood**_**..."**

"**Yes, try to be a bit more... cheerful?" His hands flailed around him at the last word as though he were trying to grab a better adjective out of thin air. Rose rolled her eyes and gave a lop-sided grin.**

"**Well, okay, I'll try. But don't blame me if it freaks people out,"**

"**Oh I don't think that's uncommon here. Freaking people out, I mean," said Mr Tall with a chortle.**

"**I am not a freak, Mr Tall," said Rose proudly, lifting her chin. **

"**No, you are Vampaneze," said Mr Tall a little sadly, "**_**But,**_**" he continued, emphasising the word and making Rose smile, "I will offer you a choice regardless. You can leave and pursue whatever kind of life you want outside the Cirque and away from us **_**or**_** I would be honoured to propose you stay with us and live at the Cirque."**

**Rose's mouth dropped at the suggestion.**

"**But Mr Tall!" She struggled, "Why would you want me here? Why would anybody? I'm a threat – as Crepsley so often takes pleasure in pointing out. Aren't you afraid I might hunt here?"**

"**You will not hunt here or anywhere if you choose to stay with us. Mr Crepsley is prepared to let you have access to his blood vials. Or at least, he will be, once I suggest it." Rose's eyes widened at the thought of surviving on such a limited blood supply. Was it even possible? **

"**I don't know Mr Tall. I, um, I can't-" But Rose was interrupted by the tall man.**

"**You do not have to give me an answer right now, child. Go and think on it. I will be here when you have decided." Unsure how to react, Rose stood unmoving in the centre of his tent for several minutes. Should she hug him and thank him properly for his offer or would it be more appropriate to leave as he'd requested? Mr Tall waited patiently for the girl to make up her mind. At last she looked up.**

"**Th- thank you Mr Tall," she smiled, "I'll just, um, I'll go and think on it shall I?" Mr Tall nodded, understanding that this was probably the first time in the girl's life that someone had willingly offered to welcome her into their family. He watched Rose duck out of his tent, into the mid-morning air and he smiled to himself. In front of him on his desk was his diary where he promptly erased the day's memos clean. He supposed the following conversation with Mr Crepsley was going to take the rest of the day.**


	8. New allies, new rivals

A warm breeze circled the tents, weaving in and out of caravans and through the bars of cages sending sawdust into the air. The scent mixed with the pungent aroma of the wolf man's food bowl and caused several freaks walking by to cover their noses in disgust as the overpowering smell hit them. Erva groaned as he unhooked the bolt on the front of the cage and let the door swing wide. The wolf man was currently elsewhere, probably still asleep and so Erva took the opportunity to carry out one of his least favourite chores undisturbed by the beast. His boots sunk up to ankle in the slimy mess of sawdust, newspapers and old, rotting pieces of food. Grumbling to himself, Erva wade in deeper and began picking up and disposing bits of rubbish in a plastic bag he had brought. The gust of wind blew to carrier bag around in his hands so that the rubbish flew all over the place. The snake boy let out an exasperated sigh as he bent down to re-dispose of the rubbish. Suddenly there was a clang of metal from behind him. He spun around a noticed that the gust of wind had been enough to knock over the stump of wood he had been using as a doorstop and the cage had slowly swung on its hinges till it had closed. Erva rolled his eyes and went back to work. At least it wasn't _locked_. As soon as the thought entered his head, he heard the click of a padlock being replaced through the bars.

"Dammit," cursed Erva as he looked over his shoulder to see who his capture was. One of the Little People was hanging by his hands off the padlock, his green eyes watching Erva mischievously. He found a foothold and balanced himself against the rails before wiggling his hooded head through the cage bars and poking out a grey slimy tongue through the jagged cut that was his mouth. It made a wheezy sound as though laughing before jumping to the floor and running off. In desperation, Erva wade back through the smelly pulp and called after the creature. His pleas soon turned to curses as he realized the creature wasn't coming back.

"Need a hand?" came a drawl from behind him. Erva turned to see a girl lounging against the opposite bars. Her back was facing him but Erva could tell it was the Vampaneze. He sighed, admitting defeat.

"That would be helpful," he said. Rose turned to face him and grinned at his predicament.

"Yes, and I know I'm usually not, but I'll give it a go." Erva watched apprehensively as the girl walked around the cage to the padlock. Sticking a long nail into the key's slot, she turned her finger clockwise and smiled as it clicked. Rose unhooked the padlock, throwing it to the ground and opened the cage.

"There you go," she said. Erva climbed out, cautiously and pocketed the lock, making sure there was no way he could be tricked again. He nodded in thanks and hopped back into the cage to continue cleaning it. Rose watched him from the cage's steps. His back arched as he bent low to scoop up the waste and shovel it into his plastic bag with a spade. Erva's shoulders tensed as he came across fresh mess mixed with the dusty sawdust. In a rare and spontaneous action of generosity, Rose also took a step over the threshold and strode over to the boy. He turned around in surprise.

"Here," she offered, "let me." She took the bag out of his hands, careful not to snatch it and peered inside. A greyish brown mess filled half of it.

"You, um, scoop. I'll hold the bag." Erva, unsure of how to react, merely shrugged and continued to work. He had no idea what had come over the girl but if she wanted to take over half his chores, that was all right by him. The two worked tirelessly together until the cage was clean and moderately tidy. Fresh sawdust and papers were laid down and the food and water bowls were refilled. Rose stepped back through the bars to survey their good work.

"Very nice. I hope wolf man appreciates this!"

"Don't be daft," laughed Erva bitterly, "no one appreciates the work we stage hands do. Never get a thank you or anything." Rose frowned.

"Well that's not fair. You should get credit." Erva simply shrugged. He was used to being undervalued and hardly ever thought about it however Rose was appalled. In her opinion, the boy needed a chance to shine at the Cirque, a place where everyone was supposed to be equal, instead of being kept to one side and made to do the nastier jobs that were unpleasant yet necessary. Rose thought Erva should have a chance to express his talent and vision and she told him so.

"I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a damn," shrugged Erva placidly.

"But your music," said Rose hurriedly. At this the boy looked up.

"What about my music?" he replied defensively. Rose sensed the self-protective tone in Erva's voice and decided to take a less direct approach.

"Nothing. I just heard you play the other day. I thought you were really good." Erva smiled and his gaze was unfocused. He was remembering how good it felt to hold the guitar in his hands and feel the strings between his fingers. One, small pluck of a single string sent noise and vibrations through his amplifiers, spreading the sound across the campsite. It felt good to make noise, to make music, to be heard.

"Yeah," he grinned, "I practise a lot. Actually I have some CDs if you're interested."

"Sure," said Rose politely. She wasn't really interested in what Erva was saying; she was busy watching how his features had changed when she had mentioned music. The crease at the top of his nose between his eyebrows had disappeared and a shine had suddenly appeared in his eyes. A smile still lingered on his lips as he talked about his different songs and what the lyrics were about. Rose nodded and made appropriate noises in the right places whilst watching his actions. His hands flailed around as he tried to explain himself and his eyebrows rose and fell dramatically. Finally he paused for breath and Rose jumped in.

"So why don't you play your music during the Cirque's performances?" She suggested but the boy's grin faded.

"Tried that," he explained, "but the audience don't want to see it. They want to be scared and freaked out and entertained. My music just doesn't fit with the atmosphere we create." His head hung sadly and he bit his lip in a manner that clearly meant, 'oh well' but Rose wasn't satisfied.

"Well Mr Tall can change the _atmosphere_ then!" She said, raising two fingers and making quotation marks in the air around the word atmosphere. Erva smiled. The two had been walking back to the boy's tent, satisfied with the chores they had completed. Rose paused in his doorway but Erva beckoned her in.

"It's cool if you want to hang out for a while;" he half shrugged, "Darren should be back soon."

"Where's he gone?" asked Rose, making conversation. Erva opened his mouth to reply but closed it again on remembering his friend's warning earlier. Could Rose be trusted?

"Um, not sure. Somewhere with Mr Crepsley I think." He jumped back onto his bed and swung his legs up to join him. Rose waited politely to be asked to be sit but realizing the boy wasn't going to offer, she chose a brightly coloured beanbag.

"Oh, okay," said Rose who was only half listening. She looked around her, impressed by the tent's decor and interior design. Erva was certainly serious about his music. He had a variety of instruments littered about his place including a drum kit and several guitars.

"I like your place," complimented Rose. Erva smiled in appreciation.

"Thanks. After a while you get bored of a plain white tent. I just filled it with the stuff I like," he paused and surveyed his room before turning back to Rose who was admiring his drum kit from her seat.

"Are you going to customise your tent then?" Rose twisted her lip and frowned. So Erva wanted to know how long she was staying. She let the silence grow between them unsure how to fill it. Finally Rose decided to just be honest.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I haven't decided how long I'm staying. To be frank, I haven't really thought about it."

"So where would you go instead?" Asked Erva casually. He noticed a panicked expression cross the girl's face.

"I don't know," she said quietly. Rose reflected on the life she'd led before coming to the Cirque. It had been miserable and scary, a life which left a trail of bloodshed and murder behind. She'd had to move constantly, always with the sound of sirens following her as the humans discovered her prey but most of all it had been lonely. After leaving Steve and the Vampaneze, Rose had led a solitary lifestyle with no one to confide in but here at the Cirque, she was gradually beginning to change her old way of living and make friends - even if she wasn't that good at it.

"So stay," suggested Erva suddenly. Even this sentence surprised him! Twenty four hours ago he wouldn't have dreamed of offering to share his home with a Vampaneze but he unexpectedly felt he had something in common with Rose. She too was different, even if she wasn't categorically a freak and she was an outcast forced to live an alternative lifestyle. Even in the few short days Rose had been here, Erva could see a difference in her. She was more accepting and appeared to be trying harder to get on with the others. He supposed it might be possible for her to even make friends here if she tried! Erva was just considering the possibility of helping Rose re-decorate her tent when someone stepped over the threshold of his.

"Oh, hello Rose," said Darren. He narrowed his eyes at Erva and jerked his head at the door wanting the boy to follow him. Erva reluctantly hopped off the bed and followed his friend out the door. Not usually one to be polite, Rose swiftly crept over to the door and pressed her ear to the slit in the canvas.

"Weren't you listening last night? I thought I told you-"

"Yeah I know," interrupted Erva, "But she's all right. She helped me do my chores this morning and where were you?" Rose heard someone sigh in frustration.

"With Mr Crepsley, I told you I was sorry. It was Vampire stuff,"

"Yeah well Rose didn't have any Vampaneze stuff to do. Plus, she's really cool, asking me about my music and that..." There was a pause and Rose struggled to look through the gap to see what was happening but the boys were standing just out of view.

"What?" cried Erva in an exasperated tone, "What?"

"You like her," said Darren accusingly.

"I - what? No I don't!"

"Yes you do!" Shouted his friend.

"Keep your voice down!" Said Erva hurriedly, "I don't!"

"Well why are you defending her?"

"Because she's -" Erva broke off, presumably because he couldn't find any words to explain. Inside, Rose rolled her eyes at the boys' conversation. She was flattered that Erva was prepared to defend her but slightly wounded that Darren still didn't trust her. Upon hearing footsteps, Rose returned to her beanbag and tried to look inconspicuous whilst thinking over a way to befriend the sceptical Darren. The boys entered followed by Rebecca. Rose smiled, content that she'd found the reason why Erva had faltered in his speech.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully. All three looked surprised by her greeting but only two of them looked pleased by it. Darren watched her warily, his eyebrows furrowed. Rose supposed Mr Crepsley's words had persuaded him against her.

"Hi Rose," replied Rebecca equally as cheery. She sat opposite Rose on the low chairs and began unpacking her bag. She had brought lunch.

The four sat for the next half hour eating sandwiches and swapping stories. Outside the sun was at its highest point in the sky shining down on the Cirque. The freaks beneath it that were exposed began to sweat and grow thirsty but Rose and her companions were sheltered in the cool shade of the boys' tent. Unbeknownst to Rose and the others, Harkat Mulds leaned against one of the long dark poles supporting the canvas and listened to the ongoing conversation intently. Most of the dialogue was irrelevant and so Harkat allowed himself to doze quietly in the warm shade however a snippet of their discussion which fell upon his ears caused him to wake with a start.

"The Vampaneze?"

"Yes, but only for a little while. Then I lived... on my own before I was taken here." Harkat recognized the last speaker as Rose. He shuffled nearer the entrance to catch the rest of their conversation.

"Taken here? Why did they want to bring you here? No offence... its, um, we like having you here..."

"Thanks Darren, that sounded really heartfelt. I don't really know why they took me here. Keep your enemies closer I guess." At this, Harkat moved closer until he could almost see into the room.

"You're not an enemy Rose," said another voice and another murmured in agreement.

"I am a Vampaneze and the Vampaneze are enemies of the Vampires, some of which live within the Cirque.

"The Cirque is neutral," came another.

"Yes, but is Mr Crepsley?" At this there was a pause.

"But then that doesn't make sense. Mr Crepsley is letting you have access to his blood vials isn't he? Why would he keep an enemy alive?"

"I'm only half-Vampaneze though," protested Rose.

"That doesn't make you half an enemy," said the one Harkat had identified as Darren. Inside, Rose made an irritated sound. Harkat was surprised that she hadn't lunged at him yet with her teeth bared.

"Think what you want Darren, I'm not your enemy." There was the sound of a beanbag being pushed roughly out the way before the entrance to the tent flew open and Rose stormed out. Harkat flung himself out the way and hid in the shade until she had passed. He watched her run down the path and through the throng of freaks in the court yard before jogging after her, his cloak hitched up to his short knees to prevent him tripping over it. His Vampaneze master would be very interested to hear about Rose's past conversation.


	9. Infatuated

**Thanks for your comments and favs guys! Much appreciated! Look out for 'action' in the following chapters ^-^**

"They've offered her a home there?" Harkat crouched low, his hands covering his head in anticipation of the blows he so often received at the hands of the young Vampaneze. However, none came; instead the boy took out his frustration on the chair he was sitting on. He hurled it across the chamber where it met an unfortunate end against a stone wall. Panting heavily, Steve held on to a piece of gold lining which had come off in his hands. He twisted the ragged piece of cloth into a ball and turned to face his servant again. Harkat bowed and continued.

"If she refrains from hunting, Mr Tall is prepared to offer her a place within the Cirque." Before him, the boy laughed harshly.

"Well there's no point in worrying then! Rose loves to hunt. She's as bloodthirsty as they come!" He leaned against the wall, a cocky expression playing on his features. Nevertheless, Harkat felt inclined to interrupt.

"She has been surviving on Mr Crepsley's blood vials so far," croaked the small creature as he flinched under the cruel stare of his master. At the mention of his arch enemy's name, Murlough stepped out of the shadows and spat venomously on the ground.

"Urgh! Crapsley's blood?" He gasped, "Is that even possible?" Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe," he reasoned, "but not for long. She'll snap – you'll see. I won't even need to intervene, she'll mess this opportunity up on her own."

"I'm surprised she's even considering living with them," muttered Murlough from his spot in the darkness, "Surely you taught her not to mix with freaks?" He laughed at the scowl on his prodigy's face and kicked Harkat for good measure. Harkat stumbled to his knees and rubbed his side, grimacing in pain. The old Vampaneze chuckled and strode past barely glancing at the servant.

"She can do what she wants, I don't care!"Growled Steve ignoring the sceptical looks the others gave him. He walked the length of the great hall, his patience thinning with every step he took towards the large wooden door. Finally, his hand resting on the handle, he turned slightly towards Murlough and Harkat who were still at the far end of the chamber. The boy's crimson eyes were hardly visible through the dark shadow which crossed his face. Harkat could just make out the cruel sneer on his lips as he uttered his instructions.

"Keep it up Harkat. I want to know everything." Next to Harkat, Murlough began to splutter.

"Don't listen to him you," he prodded the little monster with the tip of his old worn boot, "Me thinks his stalking is turning into a bit of an obsession!"

The half Vampaneze flit so quickly that Murlough hadn't noticed until he was just inches from his face. Steve bared his teeth and spat out his words in a fit of rage.

"I am not obsessed!" He stammered angrily, his eyes blazing. He then flit back down the chamber and out the door, slamming it so hard that the room shook. Quite an achievement for a stone building.

The rest of the old building was relatively well lit. Expensive looking chandeliers hung from beautifully decorated ancient ceilings and the stone walls were decorated with candles and paintings. Once he was safely on the other side of the oak door, Steve slowed down, confident Murlough wouldn't follow him. He paused to rest beneath a great Rembrandt painting; it had been one of Rose's favourites. Steve studied the dark edges around the painting. The paint was thicker in some parts than others. He tried to recall the name of the brush strokes used but failed. Rose had often talked about the styles and techniques the old masters used: chiaroscuro, blah and blah, however Steve had rarely listened to what she had said, preferring to watch her instead. He turned away from the painting, angry with himself for thinking about Ro- that girl again. Perhaps Murlough wasn't completely wrong; he was becoming a little fanatical where Rose was concerned. Everything reminded him of her, everything thing from her old coffin to the paintings which lined the corridor's walls. Steve became aware of the painting watching him again and felt his cheeks redden. He swivelled to face it, prepared to tear the blank expression from the old painters face with just his fingernails, thus ruining Rose's precious painting forever. Suddenly a hand shot out from nowhere and gripped his outstretched arm around the wrist.

"Not too close, son," said Mr Tiny politely, "you might smudge it." His grip increased on the boy's arm as Steve showed no sign of backing down. Finally, Steve began to feel a pain shoot through his wrist and so he shook the man from him and took several steps backwards, a grimace still lingering on his features.

"Weren't going to touch it," he muttered, glaring at the oil painting. The oil painting seemed to glare back and so Mr Tiny, noticing Steve suddenly grow tense, stepped in between the boy and his valuable art work.

"Good. It's one of my favourites," smiled the man toothily.

"Yeah, I gathered it's popular," snarled Steve, looking at the offending piece over Mr Tiny's shoulder. Quickly leading the boy away, Mr Tiny pursued the subject with care.

"Ah yes, one of your friend's preferred pieces as I recall," he looked sideways to watch the boy but his expression didn't change. He pressed on.

"I see she's found our friends at the Cirque."

"Yeah, some company," spat the boy. This earned a chuckle from his companion. The two continued to walk deeper into the dungeons where the Vampaneze currently lived. The air around them grew colder and their footsteps echoed around the unnaturally lit hallways. Mr Tiny flicked a spot of dust off the shoulder of his suit and glanced over at Steve. He was wearing all black as usual. Black frayed jeans with a plain black t-shirt. The only splash of colour visible was the red thin lining on the inside of his black light jacket. Steve turned to face him abruptly after noticing his continued stare and glowered at him but his scowl was met with a friendly smile. The boy was going to need some work if he was going to fulfil even a part of the prophecy Mr Tiny had laid out for him. Fortunately Steve already possessed the desire to accomplish the prophecy, even if he didn't fully understand what it involved. All Mr Tiny had to do was make sure that girl didn't get in the way and luckily Mr Tall had listened to his suggestion of welcoming Rose into the Cirque.

"All the same, she's happy there," shrugged Mr Tiny, hoping to destroy any hope the boy had for her return. Steve remained silent, an indication showing he couldn't care less, or at least, he hoped. Mr Tiny let the subject drop positive he'd convinced the boy he was alone in the Vampaneze world however he noticed Steve's shoulders were dangerously near to drooping so he suggested they hunt soon, a proposition he knew the boy would be incapable of resisting. However to his complete surprise, his offer was declined.

"No thanks," said Steve, "maybe later." Mr Tiny watched the young Vampaneze continue along the corridor into the heart of the building alone and sighed to himself. Youth today was so difficult to control.

In his room, Steve collapsed into his coffin and slammed the lid furiously. He was too angry to bother wondering why and so he decided to place the blame on Rose, the haunting subject of his thoughts for many weeks now. He'd been miserable since she had left, although he tried to remind himself he had been miserable whilst she was with him too. Rose had always found something to complain about, constantly acting as his loud and persistent conscience.

"_It's so dark and damp down here!"_

"_Do we have to rip our food to shreds before we eat it? We're spilling most of the blood!"_

"_Why throw things Steve? Can't we just talk these arguments through?"_

Several phrases sprang to mind as he recalled her constant criticisms. Unused to having someone watch out for him his whole life, someone besides Darren who was never as strong natured as he was, had made him resent Rose's habit of being over protective but now she was gone, he found himself missing her companionship and caring attitude. Why did he miss that? He preferred his own company in general and went to great lengths to protect his freedom. Mr Tiny had often told him that quality would ensure he fulfilled his destiny. His unattatchments were key to his success and so, in the long run, it was better if he remained alone. But why was he still ordering one of Mr Tiny's Little People to keep tracking her? Even Steve couldn't fully explain his actions but for some reason, he felt better knowing where she was and if she was safe out there. The Freak show wasn't exactly an ideal home for Rose but he supposed if she was really happy there, like he had been told, then it was better than keeping her somewhere she didn't want to be - like by his side.


	10. Blissful memories

**Observant readers will have noticed that i've cranked this baby's rating up to an M and this is thanks to this lil chapter. Warning: contains lemons :P **

**This is my first go at writing such an 'action packed' scene so any comments will be helpful *blushes***

**Anyhoo... enjoy!**

**DC**

Rose wandered deeper into the forest, not bothering to flit, just enjoying the peace away from the late afternoon bustle in the Cirque. A light rain had just passed and since Rose hadn't bothered finding shelter, her hair and clothing was damp and clung to her slender frame. Drops of rain gathered in the centre of petals causing the flowers to bend and sway and daylight filtered through the tree's canopy, illuminating the wet, green foliage below. Rose moved silently through the rolling fog, following a forgotten trail and thinking about nothing in particular. Above her, a fat droplet of water rolled off the edge of a leaf and landed with a plop on her head. Rose turned her face skywards and glared at the tree. The tall, dark shape looming high above her did not even register her annoyance and several birds taking flight from it above her sent a shower of raindrops cascading down, only adding to her frustration. Now thoroughly wet and exasperated, Rose decided to sit beneath the majestic tree and allow her thoughts to meander. At first, they drifted back towards the campsite and angry feelings clouded her mind as Darren's words sprung to mind.

"_Enemy!"_

How dare he label her an enemy! He didn't even know her! Suddenly she wasn't as impressed by him as she had been when they were in the same class. Rose had often admired Darren though she had never actually spoken to him properly. He always made an effort to be friendly, punctual and responsible, usually handing in homework early and always getting straight A's in lessons. His teachers were delighted to have him as a student and although he was a little shy around girls, he was never turned down for prom. Although Rose was suitably amazed by his pleasant nature, she couldn't help labelling him as a bit of a goody-two-shoes and even his best friend Steve had thought the same. He had often made her laugh with his anecdotes regarding Darren's behaviour. For example, the one time he had managed to persuade the boy to skip class with him, he somehow attracted unwanted attention by breaking glass very loudly right outside their teacher's classroom. Suddenly Rose realized how typical that example was of Darren's character. He acted brave and bad but it was really a performance, designed to impress or protect his reputation or, in another case, deceive Rose into believing he was acting as a guardian of the Cirque and his friends but deep down he was just as afraid of her kind as Erva.

Rose sighed out loud, exasperated with herself for taking so long to figure out his out of character behaviour. Mr Crepsley obviously thought that by telling Darren stories about the Vampaneze, he was making him aware and conscious to any possibilities however he only served in frightening the boy who was already caught up in a twisted reality of his own. Shoved into the Cirque, Darren was only just struggling to come to terms with his own nature, making friends with freaks and learning to use new powers when suddenly Mr Crepsley was asking him to defend these new friends against a common 'enemy'. Rose didn't blame the boy for behaving over-protective regarding his new family. After just losing his old family, Darren was clearly afraid of a fiend like her taking his new one away. At her feet, a few droplets of rain joined the already growing puddle and Rose realized that it had been raining for a while now. Mist rolled in again, hiding the tree stump she was sitting on and standing up, Rose saw that the path she had been following had also been concealed.

"Might as well wait it out then," she grumbled to herself. Not brave enough to wander deeper into the woods to find shelter for fear she might get lost, Rose sourced shelter and protection from the wind and rain inside a hollowed out dead tree. Brushing cobwebs aside and chucking out dead and rotting leaves, she seated herself snugly in its abode and rested her head against the rough bark. She had not seen mist as thick as this since she and Steve had lost their path in a large forest on their way back from hunting a few months ago. She laughed somewhat bitterly as she remembered they had not been on speaking terms after a silly argument. Growing tired of the silent treatment but not wanting to be the first to break it, Steve strode far ahead into the forest at a speed which caused Rose to jog to keep up. Fog had partly hidden him from her and so she had been forced to call out his name against her will.

"Steve?" She had cried reluctantly, "Where the hell are you?" Steve had taken delight in waiting several minutes before calling back.

"Over here," he yelled unhelpfully. Rose had rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, waiting for him to come to her. Eventually she had heard his heavy footsteps pounding through the foliage before his figure finally appeared amongst the trees. His hair was clinging to his head, soaked from the damp mist, partially covering his ears and eyes. When he saw her, he had raked his fingers through it, causing it to stand up on end in devilish spikes. Seeing this, Rose's scowl had slipped slightly and she had smiled ruefully. Meeting her gaze, her companion had smirked and turned back the way he had come though he waited for her to catch up. To his surprise and slight annoyance, Rose didn't follow him and he was forced to turn around to see where she had gone. She was still in the same place, staring at him and trying not to laugh.

"It's this way," she pointed out. Steve, sceptical at first, soon noticed the path she was standing on was indeed the same one they had been searching for and unenthusiastically trudged over to join her. As soon as he was in reach, the girl grabbed his arm and looped hers through his to his astonishment and clasped them tight together.

"Come on," she had sighed playfully. Rose had been wearing short sleeves that day, a loose red t-shirt with a faded design on its front. It had clung to her slim frame from the humidity and moist atmosphere in the forest and so her friends' oversized jacket had provided warmth for her. Wrapped inside, she let Steve's arm guide her through the trees and towards home.

"You should have worn something warmer," he scolded but Rose only smiled.

"I would have stolen half your jacket anyway," she said, "you're nice and cosy!" She had playfully moved her arm around his back, resting it on his side and he pulled her closer to him and pecked the top of her head affectionately.

"I know you would have," he said, "even if you hadn't I would have put it around you anyway. You're small enough to lean on when I get tired!" Rose suddenly found herself struggling to support his weight as Steve dramatically fell on top of her.

"Gerroff!" She complained but the boy simply ignored her.

"I'm tired," he whined and the two fell about the forest's floor giggling and pushing each other out the way. After a while, Rose gave up. The boy was too strong and his weight pinned her to the forest's dark floor. She lay beneath him, panting heavily, enjoying his warmth. Steve turned his head till his cheek rested against hers.

"Got you," he whispered softly into her ear. Rose blushed and nudged his face gently away from hers but he turned to face her again. This time Rose didn't resist. Steve pressed his lips to hers gently letting his tongue explore her mouth as she parted her lips to allow him entry. Rose deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around the boy's neck, pulling him closer. Her action forced an involuntary moan from Steve and she smiled at being able to tease him so easily. The boy responded by moving his hands around her waist, resting one behind her on the small of her back and the other on the ground to stop himself from crushing her. Rose gently pushed his supporting hand out the way so that he fell clumsily on top of her, too involved in the kiss to care. Using all her strength, she managed to push the boy away so that he rolled across the foliage and landed in the damp on his back. He looked over at her in surprise, his face mixed with embarrassment, hurt and confusion. Rose quickly amended her action by crawling over and straddling the boy, resuming their passionate kiss. To his delight, she recommenced with more enthusiasm than before and he grew excited under her touch. Taking a deep and slightly unsteady breath, Rose removed her wet shirt, tossing it aside, and untied her hair. Her brown locks fell about her shoulders in curls caused by the humidity and several tresses landed across her exposed breasts covered only by a damp black bra. Beneath her, Steve struggled to remove his top so Rose, leaning down, gently lifted it over his head and threw it to her left where it joined the rest of her attire. Distracted by the sight of his bare chest, Rose was easily forced onto her back by an eager Steve.

He kissed her lightly and smiled at the beautiful girl beneath him. Gazing into her anxious red eyes, he bent to kiss her neck, moving his mouth along her throat to her collar bone where he showered her with kisses, smiling at her moans of pleasure. Steve moved his fingers from their current position weaved through her hair and traced a line with his index along her collar, between her perfect breasts, down her stomach until his hand reached the top of her jeans. He looked up at her with a cheeky grin before sticking his bottom lip out as though asking her permission. Rose rolled her eyes, anxious to continue. Grinning mischievously, Steve took her hungry expression as an approval and quickly began unzipping her jeans. He moved aside to allow her to wriggle out of them before he clasped her tightly to him once more, unwilling to let her go.

The two were now both on their knees, pressed tightly together in the fading light, letting the mist grow denser around them. Neither felt the cold; their skin felt clammy and hot in the places it met. Rose shook out her hair around her and ran her cold hands over the boy's shoulders and down between him shoulder blades. His back arched and his chest rose to meet hers as she slid her hand down to meet his jean's waist band.

"Off," she ordered and watched eagerly as her lover complied. Waiting patiently, Rose sighed deeply as Steve finally cast off his black trousers. She smiled, though not in surprise, to see that he also had black underwear on underneath. Breathing faster, Rose resumed smothering the boy in kisses. Her hands, tangled in his mop of dark hair, tightened their grip as Steve returned her passion with as much fervour. Rose twisted one knee around the boy's waist and lent into his chest. Their cries of bliss echoed around the empty clearing carried further by the wind. Rose, now blushing furiously, pushed her boyfriend back into a more compromising position and slipped out of her remaining clothing. The air felt cold yet refreshing against her bare skin and her crimson cheeks matched her eyes as she winked cheekily at the gaping boy. Steve's mouth dropped several inches as he took in the girl's full beauty, his gaze resting on the more intimate parts of her body which were noticeably paler. He struggled out of his boxers, in a hurry to join Rose amidst the leaves on the forest floor.

Gradually, the mist began to thin and part so that the clearing was left to bask fully in the new moon's rays. Moonlight filled the wood's glade and the trees transformed into protective dark shapes around the two lovers, looming over them in the fading light and sheltering them from the wind. Leaves curled and small twigs snapped beneath the weight of Rose and Steve as they rolled around the dell, taking it in turns to pleasure the other and taking immense satisfaction from their partner's sighs of delight. Rose stroked the inside of Steve's thigh and smiled at being able tease the boy so easily. They had made love twice now in the moonlight's luminosity and yet he still breathed just as excitedly with the same wild look in his eyes as though this last time would be his first.

"Again?" she whispered huskily. Steve just nodded, too breathless to reply. Rose straddled the boy, lowering herself as she kissed him. She felt him respond willingly beneath her as she slowly rotated her hips, crying out in blissfulness. She stroked Steve's cheek as he tilted his chin up towards the moonlight, his eyes closed in ecstasy. He was so easily satisfied. Daringly, Rose began to grind harder in response to her boyfriend's moans. He guided her wordlessly with his hands, telling her what to do next. At last, they reached their climax and fell apart panting and laughing with delight.

"I love you," cried Steve, turning to face her. His face was cast in shadow but Rose could just make out his wild, manic grin.

"I love you too," she whispered. Rose snuggled closer to the boy, leaning in and breathing his musky scent as he placed a protective arm around her shoulders. The two spent the night together in the forest, kissing and sleeping in the caliginous forest beneath the bright audacious moon.

Rose looked up at the same moon now. Tears burned in her throat as she remembered the pleasure she had felt that night with Steve. She had known then that she really loved him and that he loved her and she had never expected to be so far apart from him and not only in distance. She had never felt so at home as she had when he placed his arms around her. Nothing could compare to that feeling of warmth and security or protection he gave her simply by smiling at her. The Children's Home, the Vampaneze's hideout, even the Cirque couldn't even come close to the sanctuary Steve offered her. Now they were apart and so angry with each other she felt worse than ever. Before her, the mist had mostly disappeared and the moon's light lit up the path back to the Cirque as clearly as though someone was shining a torch along it. Rose took it as a sign to return and stood up, stretching her arms and shaking the cramp from out of her leg.

Exhaling loudly, Rose made the decision to return to camp and march straight up to Mr Tall's tent to accept his offer. With Steve no longer in love with her, her only option was to seek refuge from anyone who would offer it to her ad currently, Mr Tall was the only individual mad or kind enough to grant it to her. She decided she would simply have to avoid Darren and Mr Crepsley as much as possible if they could not or would not get along with her. As for the freaks, they were simply going to have to share their home for a while!


	11. Under attack!

Mr Crepsley circled his desk for the fourth time in as many minutes and groaned. Gavner had just left, leaving behind him only bad news and an empty glass. The stained wine glass on the table had but one drop of blood left and its invasive presence reminded Mr Crepsley that his blood vials were too, disappearing thanks to the Cirque's most recent visitor. Rose was also the reason Gavner had stopped by unexpectedly. As Mr Crepsley had guessed, he was furious with the decision to keep the Vampaneze within the Cirque and even more enraged to discover that Mr Tall had offered the girl a permanent home amongst them. Mr Crepsley's head still rang with the old Vampire's angry cries of protests and he wiped the sweat from his brow as he struggled to make sense of his own opinions regarding the new visitor. Yes, it was true he had taken an instant dislike to the young half Vampaneze but he had tried not to let his biased view of the Vampaneze kind distort his decisions. When the Cirque's ringmaster had initially told him about his new offer to Rose he had surprised the man by agreeing with the idea. As Rose settled in the Cirque, he began to see how ridiculous he had been in thinking she was some sort of spy. The girl was far too emotional to be an efficient undercover scout; she let her mood determine her actions, often running off in tears or using sarcasm as a defence.

Above him, the canvas roof began to swell under the persistent pressure of the heavy rain. There had been a welcomed break in the weather earlier only to have the temporary intermission broken by a clap of thunder signalling the next few hours of heavy downpour. The setting sun beyond the hill was hidden through a sheet of dark rain which meant that most of Mr Crepsley's tent was immersed in darkness. The man sat in silence, letting his desk take his weight as he mulled over the possibilities of an oncoming war which Gavner never ceased in assuring him was imminent. The war would mean certain disaster for the current peace between the two races, a peace which was constantly threatened and now even more so by the presence of Rose.

Mr Tall had invited him into his tent as soon as Rose had accepted his gracious offer and Mr Crepsley had smiled through gritted teeth, agreeing to supply her with the blood she so desperately craved in exchange for extra help with chores. As soon as she had left he had made sure Mr Tall knew he was not happy with the arrangements. The old man had simply nodded, his eyes closed. This had infuriated him even more. No one was listening to him. He was sure that if only Mr Tall knew what Mr Tiny was capable of he would pay more attention to his warnings. Mr Crepsley knew it was not beneath Mr Tiny to use a seemingly innocent girl to spy on the Vampires through the Cirque. In fact it was possible the girl herself did not even know she was a spy. Mr Crepsley had vociferated his secret fears that the Cirque was under surveillance and the peace that existed between the Vampires and the Vampaneze was as tense as ever. Mr Tall had only fallen back on his old catch phrase, commenting on the fact that the Cirque was neutral. Mr Crepsley had had to close his eyes to prevent himself from rolling disrespectfully.

"The Cirque is neutral, Mr Tall," he had said, "But I'm afraid the Vampaneze tend to root for their own kind and so if the time came for the Cirque's inhabitants to choose sides, I am fairly certain I know who Rose would pick."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Mr Tall had replied. In his own tent, Mr Crepsley reflected on the man's words. Perhaps it was better to leave the current situation as it was. Exacerbating the problem by creating hostility between the girl and him would not help matters. He had tried smiling at Rose earlier when he had seen her making her way back to her tent for a rest. His friendly grin had been met with a cold, hard stare which she delivered with an accusing expression. The insufferable girl! Needless to say, his smile had faded quickly but he had fought not to replace it with an equally withering gaze, instead he had simply nodded curtly before stalking off in another direction. The best thing to do was to get involved as little as possible. If Mr Tall wanted him to supply her with blood, fine, but nothing else.

The blood vials currently occupied a small shelf in a tall glass cabinet. He was running low and would need to pay a visit to the nearest morgue to acquire some more as soon as possible. Rose was draining his supplies faster than he had anticipated. Never before had he known a Vampire or even a Vampaneze to be so bloodthirsty. She was almost greedy but the way her skin turned the colour of a ripe plum and her red eyes darkened told him that she was not simply gluttonous; she was powerless to her cravings. Mr Crepsley leaned forward in his chair and realised the rain had stopped. The absence of the constant patter of raindrops above him left a vacuum of sound and the silence outside seemed to fill his entire head. It was not an ordinary silence, it was a dead silence. Mr Crepsley rose carefully from his chair, cautious not to disturb the peace. Outside it was dark; the night lit by a few lamps doted around the site. In the orange glow, Mr Crepsley saw the camp was empty as its residence had undoubtedly gone indoors to escape the downpour and possibly to bed. The air was still and he had just stood there long enough to rule out any suspicions he had nursed when a tiny figure ran across the space outside with incredible speed. Mr Crepsley's head spun to focus on the little creature and he saw it was Harkat Mulds fleeing through the grass with his small robe hitched over his scabby knees to avoid it getting wet in any of the puddles. The monster disappeared long before Mr Crepsley had a chance to see the look of anxiousness he had etched across his grotesque features and fled into the shadows.

"Strange," muttered the Vampire as he closed his eyes and massaged the lids. It was getting late and he was growing tired. Taking a deep shuddering breath he opened his eyes again in time to see several figures running through the space in front of him, following the same path as Harkat had taken. Mr Crepsley squinted into the distance. He could just make out the faces of Corma Limbs and Gertha Teeth leading the small group with a few men following close behind. Mr Crepsley suddenly became aware what was happening.

"Attack!" He cried as he shrugged on his long coat and fled out the door, "We're under attack!" Several other voices shouted out from around the campsite as they discovered their intruders. Mr Crepsley made a snap decision to give chase. He caught Gertha and Corma's pursuers easily and knocked them out from behind before heading off to find Darren. The boy was almost certainly in trouble.

As screams and cries broke out around him, Mr Crepsley noticed the costume hut was currently hosting a fight. Through the windows he could see Evra and Rebecca trapped by several Vampaneze; hardly a fair fight. Sneaking around the caravan, Mr Crepsley could hear Darren's grunts of effort as he fought of the intruders. From the sound of things, he was doing better than he thought he would but he needed his help.

He broke in through the back door and grabbed the man nearest him. Without even thinking, he smashed his head against the surface beside him which happened to be a mirror. The object shattered and fell to pieces as the Vampaneze fell to his knees, unconscious. In the dim light, Darren looked up at him with both surprise and relief.

"Duck!" He ordered as he grabbed the unconscious man and threw him over his head where he landed on his accomplices. The men yelled out in frustration and one, struggling to wriggle out from underneath his companion, aimed a punch in Mr Crepsley's direction. The old Vampire deflected his aim and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him the length of the cabin.

"Move," he directed, clutching Darren's collar and lifting him to his feet. Together the two flit out of the building to safety, leaving Rebecca and Evra to defend themselves against the strong and now very angry Vampaneze. After they had fled, Evra glanced over at Rebecca in sheer disbelief and rising panic.

"Did they just-?"

"I think so," replied Rebecca as she backed away from the approaching Vampaneze.

"Are they coming back?" Whispered Evra hoarsely, not taking his eyes of the furious advancing men. He took the girl's silence and the Vampaneze's harsh laughter as a no and so braced himself against any impact. The noise outside grew louder as fights and fires erupted around them. Evra risked a last glance out the window and saw black smoke filling the sky before the Vampaneze reached him.


	12. Stranger danger

The tranquil night sky looked down on the mayhem below with disgust. Fires ravaged the Cirque, destroying the peace which had existed only moments before. Shouts and yells echoed throughout the campsite signalling the various ongoing battles between the freaks and the intruders. The Vampaneze moved as one through the enemy's territory spreading terror and violence in their wake and enjoying the fear they emitted immensely. Every now and then, a section of the gruesome army would break away to engage in fighting, pillaging and feeding on the horrified freaks. This continued so that by the time the army reached Rose's tent on the far end of the campsite, it consisted of just two large and ugly Vampaneze.

Rose was inside her coffin, the lid was down and she was resting though not completely asleep. Memories and persistent worries prevented her from reaching the peaceful borders of sleep so that she lay in a sort of limbo. As she dozed, the Cirque burned around her, its ashes carried by the wind so that the site was hidden in a veil of black smoke which choked and concealed its inhabitants. The two men snuck through the tent's open entrance, intending to surprise its resident but they were surprised to stumble across a closed coffin.

"Ho ho, what's this?" said one, his voice high with glee. His companion circled the tomb and a cruel grin played on his dark lips.

"Let's see who's home!" He grabbed either side of the coffin with both hands and nodded to his friend to do the same. Together they clasped the coffin's handles, lifted it into the air and turned it over. Rose tumbled out, her face a picture of shock, where she landed on the floor with a soft thud. Her astonishment quickly turned to anger as she realized what had happened and she turned to face what she assumed were a couple of practical jokers with a look that could kill. Whirling around, brushing her hands on the back of her faded black jeans, she came face to face with two huge threatening Vampaneze. Fear slowly spread across the girl's face as she measured their intimidating size in comparison with her small and slender frame. She backed away as they advanced.

"Hello Rosie," jeered one. Rose didn't remember him as an individual but there was no mistaking he was part of the Vampaneze clan she had stayed with a few months ago. As soon as she had turned to face them, she had noticed the recognition in their eyes and subsequently a nasty smile had spread across each of their repulsive faces. A series of questions poured into Rose's mind but she was too shocked to voice any of them. Rose began to panic as they approached, their teeth bared and fists clenched in anticipation. Raising own fists in what she hoped was a threatening action, she was rather disheartened to see the two Vampaneze in front of her burst in to laughter. However seeing their spluttering gave birth to a fresh anger inside her and she took advantage of their momentary lapse. Lunging forward she enthusiastically punched the nearest one on the nose causing him to stagger backwards clutching his face. He soon recovered and, eyes watering, he advanced again, furious and red.

"Get her," he growled. Rose ducked, narrowly avoiding a fast closed fist aimed at her cheek. She kicked out with her heel, successfully catching the previously uninjured Vampaneze on his shin. He howled in pain and hit out at the girl in frustration, managing to meet her chin. Rose fell back and stumbled over the coffin lying on the floor.

"Get her!" Repeated the first Vampaneze in irritation. He lurched forward in an attempt to grab the girl's throat but missed, allowing Rose a chance to knee him in the groin. As the man doubled in pain, he received a swift blow the chin and another to his throat, winding him. Rose was about to kick out at the tottering man when she was floored by his companion. Cursing and swearing, she propped herself up and hit out at the Vampaneze with no results. Laughing with manic delight, the man grabbed her collar and pulled her upwards so that his rough, unsightly face was inches from hers. He opened his mouth to jeer, his breath nearly overpowering the girl but recoiled in disgust as his victim took the opportunity to spit in his face.

"Argh! You disgusting little-" Rose hit out again, this time poking the man in his eyes with two of her fingers. He cried out ad released her. Wasting no time, the girl spun to face the other man, ready to do some serious damage but a hard force knocked her head over heels into the pole in the middle of her tent. Her head crashed against the wooden rod, cracking it down the middle. Ignoring the blood gushing out of the fresh wound under her hair, Rose looked at the splintered wood thoughtfully. The beginning of an idea was only just forming when her attacker struck again. This time she sprang from his reach, sticking out her sharp nails as he passed and stabbing the back of his thigh. Yowling in pain the Vampaneze fell into the pole where it split completely under his weight. While he was down, Rose kicked and hit him, viciously tearing his skin with her nails like a talon encrusted beast. Resisting the sweet scent of blood which filled the tent with great difficulty, she managed to focus her attention on the second man who had just recovered his sight. He glared at her with a bloodshot gaze and snorted with rage like an angry bull. Rose found his animalistic frustration almost comical and flapped her open jacket out to the side like a matador's cape. Fully enraged, the man charged, aiming for her throat but to his surprise, the girl suddenly disappeared. A loud snap from above him made him look up, but alas he was not in time to move out of the way. Rose and jumped upwards and hung onto the long thin wooden pole which held up her tent. It had snapped under her weight, causing the two poles at the entrance and back of the tent to fall. Using her nails as a knife, Rose escaped through the canvas and watched with satisfaction as the tent trapped the two men in the folds of its material. Two shapes lay still beneath it. The falling poles had landed as if by some miracle on the back of their heads, knocking them unconscious instantly.

Outside, the night air should have been cool but the fires still burning around the Cirque gave off enough heat to cause sweat to gather along Rose's brow. She wiped the perspiration away with the back of her hand and surveyed the mess around her. Colourful tents lay trampled and scorched in the mud surrounded by broken glass and slumped figures. The air was filled with black smoke which hung suspended above the grass by a few feet. A few running blurry shapes were just visible through it but the night was eerily silent. Rose wasn't sure if the danger had passed or won.

Running as fast and as quietly as possible, Rose headed in the direction of Mr Tall's tent. If anyone knew what was happening, it was him however she hadn't even run half way there when she heard a scream ring out from a nearby tent. She re-routed her course and hastily made her way over to the source of the noise ready to aid whoever was in trouble. The tent was slashed and ripped and its contents cluttered the floor. Rose hoped over a fallen clothes rail and discarded ironing board and spotted a hunched figure amidst the debris. His face a picture of shock and grief, Evra lay huddled in a corner clutching his arm. Blood seeped through his top and Rose had to pinch her nose to prevent herself from lunging at the wound. She was growing hungry after the fight.

"What happened?"She asked in a rush seeing the boy's expression of utter despair. Evra turned to her with wide eyes, unsure he could trust her.

"You... the Vampaneze!" He gasped. Rose frowned at his half-hearted accusation.

"They attacked me while I was asleep," she breathed, "I've only just got away." The bruises on her bare arms acted as evidence of the Vampaneze's betrayal. Nasty dark blue and black marks were spreading along her arms and Rose could feel the beginnings of a shiner forming around one eyes. She winced slightly as she brought her hand to her face where the bump was already clear. Evra sat up and peered closely at the girl's face. He seemed satisfied by her excuse and the marks on her body and torn clothing only justified her explanation. He proceeded to tell her exactly what had happened.

"And I don't know where they took her," he finished. Rose sat back, her head reeling with new information yet she was frustrated that she had no real answers. Why had the Vampaneze attacked? Why had they taken Rebecca?

"That's not all," whispered Evra. He looked around him nervously as if he expected to be attacked again at any minute. Rose lent towards him as he beckoned her closer.

"They asked me to give a message to Darren. They said to tell him to go home."

"Home?" Repeated Rose loudly. Evra shushed her and begged her to be quiet. Sitting beside him, Rose reassured him they were gone but she was too preoccupied with thought to be any real comfort. So it was Darren the enemy was after. They had destroyed the Cirque to simply deliver a message. And kidnap one of his best friends.

"They want him to find them," she reasoned aloud, "why?"

"I don't know," shrugged Evra, who seemed to have got over the worst of his shock and anxiety. He nursed his bleeding arm and drew breath harshly through his teeth as fresh pain shot through the cut. Rose noticed, mostly due to the sudden rush of the sweet smell of fresh blood as it pulsed through the boy's veins and leaked through onto his clothes. She held her breath as she moved nearer the door.

"You need to get that seen to," she remarked, leaning further out the door, "I'll go and find someone that can help."

"Can't you-?" began Evrabut he was interrupted almost immediately.

"No," said simply as she exited through a hole in the wall. Outside Rose inhaled deeply, letting the biting cold air fill her lungs, dispelling any scent of blood that hung in her nostrils. The smell had been too much and now she feared she was more bloodthirsty than ever. After not tasting any fresh blood in weeks, Rose felt herself beginning to grow physically and mentally weaker. Her physical strength had deteriorated even more in the last hour after the fight with the two Vampaneze and had left her sore and bruised. Mentally, she was struggling with the idea that blood vials were enough to satisfy her hunger. The congealed mess in the small glass bottles were barely a child's portion of meal!

Around her, thick black smoke still hung in the air though it was partially dispersed by the cold winds that ravaged the Cirque's remains. Freaks were beginning to emerge from their hiding places or else picking themselves up off the floor. Rose headed over to the man nearest her.

"Rhamus!" She cried. The man was brushing himself off and he looked up at her with a similar expression to Erva's.

"You!" He began but an exasperated Rose cut him off.

"Evra's hurt Rhamus, he's bleeding. Please...? I can't..." She broke off and stared at the large man pleadingly. At last he seemed to reach the conclusion that his fellow freak's wellbeing was more important than securing Rose and that any possible lynching could be done later when a mob could be fully assembled. Rose hurried in the opposite direction to the man, certain he would entertain his notion of her being an enemy as soon as he had finished tending to Erva and would undoubtedly rope in a few more angry freaks who also sought justice for the night's events. Rose knew she was not safe at the Cirque for the time being. Even Mr Tall would not be able to calm the furious crowd if they decided to punish her for the Vampaneze's attack.

She weaved in and out of burning and burnt tents, staying low and alert until finally, an exit to the Cirque revealed itself through the disorder no fewer than a few hundred yards away. Seeing no one was around, Rose made a break for it. She hurdled several broken pieces of furniture and dodged any collapsed caravans in her way. Suddenly she felt something grasp her ankle. What felt like two tiny hands closed around her leg whilst she was in mid jump and Rose fell to the sodden earth with a thud. She looked down at her leg in confusion and then proceeded to glance around her when she saw that there was nothing holding onto her leg. She decided she must have only tripped and that panic had deluded her into thinking someone was pulling her back. She crawled onto her knees, still crouching low when all of a sudden there was the sound of tyres crunching gravel and a car's headlights swung into view illuminating her in the darkness. Smoke swirled in the beam light and Rose closed her eyes against the unexpected brightness. Caught like a rabbit in the headlights, Rose squinted up at the sound of a car door being slammed shut and could see a dark figure moving towards her ominously. As the figure stepped in front of the light, blocking it, Rose stood up hastily and forced her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Oh no!" Cried the voice of the man in front of her, "I've missed the fun!" Rose gasped at the familiar menacing tone.


	13. A destiny?

**Rose looked up through the smoke, her face frozen in a position of shock and disbelief. The light silhouetted a familiar figure against the car's headlamps. The beams of light shone around the tall shape dressed in black like a perverse halo. The girl finally found her voice although her words came out somewhat choked.**

"**Steve?" She uttered, "Is that-?" She was cut off as a hand closed around her throat. The boy had stepped forward in one quick motion and closed his fist around Rose's neck. At such close proximity, even in the dark light, there was no mistaking his memorable features. However his usual smirk was contorted with an emotion Rose could only guess was rage and his eyes seemed almost black in the low light. Rose whimpered at the feel of his cold skin around her throat but thankfully the boy released his grip almost immediately. He gazed at her in confusion and anger but over his shoulder a moving shape drew Rose's attention away from Steve's bizarre greeting. Mr Tiny stepped out of the car, closed the door softly and leaned against it. He seemed to be waiting for something. Rose ignored the unwanted spectator and turned her attention back to Steve.**

"**Rose?" He spat. He uttered her name as though it was some horrible curse word and Rose recoiled to see him behave in such a way. Their time apart had clearly exacerbated, not healed, old wounds. She was about to retaliate with an equally venomous response when there was an outcry from behind her.**

"**Hey! Oi, you there!" An unrecognizable voice called out. Rose guessed it was one of the freaks attempting to scare off the intruders. **_**Please run away, save yourself**_**, she thought, helpless to interfere for she had guessed Steve's next move. He stared hard into her eyes, nothing moving except one corner of his mouth curling slightly into a cruel smile. Rose kept her eyes on his, pleading with him silently not to act. But as soon as the poor, ignorant freak was near enough, he threw Rose to the ground and lunged. **

"**NO!" Rose cried out, extending a hand feebly as though she could pull Steve off of the man purely by wishing it. A little way in front of her, the Vampaneze had reached the freak and slit his neck with his thumb. It was a fast and almost painless death and if Rose had had control of her senses, she might have guessed something was wrong with the way Steve hunted. The boy usually killed for two reasons. First, he liked it. He enjoyed making his victim suffer and watching their eyes widen in terror and pain as he destroyed them. Secondly, he killed for food, just like the other Vampaneze however this time he did lower his lips to gather the fresh warm blood which poured down his victim's open throat, instead he cut the man a second time and let his blood stain the wet grass.**

**The smell hit Rose with a sudden force. The sweet scent almost suffocated her and caused an intense burning in her throat. A hungry fire blazed in her chest and overwhelmed her instantly. In a flash she was by the victim's side. Out of pure instinct, she hit out at Steve causing him to fly backwards safely out of reach. Wasting no time, Rose began to feed heavily from the gaping wound on the man's limp neck. Thick blood passed her swollen lips and filled her mouth. It tasted sickly sweet yet she yearned for more. Long after she had drained the last few drops from the lifeless corpse, the taste still lingered on her tongue, taunting her. She wanted – no, she needed more blood yet frustratingly the body held so little. Her fingers searched the grass for a pool of blood that might have fallen but to her dismay there was none.**

"**I knew it," came a bitter voice from across the lawn. Rose looked up to see Steve picking himself off the ground, wincing a little at the pain in his side. Rose had winded him and bruised his hip after crashing into him with such a force.**

"**I knew you wouldn't be able to resist. You can't survive on that preserved mess!"**

"**I didn't have a choice," said Rose quietly. A mixture of emotions bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She pushed the feelings of shame down to the bottom, avoiding looking at the corpse, as old emotions crept back to the surface as she gazed at Steve's familiar features. He still had the same passionate fury behind his eyes and he directed his full attention on Rose, nearly taking her breath away. She averted her gaze so that she could regain the power of speech. **

"**Why are you here? To tempt me?" Tears swelled in her eyes as her mask slipped and she could not prevent her frustration from rising. **

"**To taunt me?" she continued, "Look what I've done! I've thrown away another home!" She stood up and kicked the dead freak beside her, instantly regretting doing so.**

"**Serve you right if I did," retorted Steve. Rose chose not to reply, she was preoccupied by grief. She had thrown away the chance to live at the freak by breaking the one rule Mr Tall had insisted she lived by. It seemed Steve had only returned to destroy her new opportunities at the Cirque. She glared at him, intending to shout at him again but her anger melted away as his eyes met hers. However it seemed Steve had no trouble voicing his rage.**

"**Living with freaks? How could you stand it? I couldn't even bring myself to taste that one's blood!" He glowered at the body resentfully and then glanced around him.**

"**Bunch of cowards!" He roared, "Won't even risk their necks to avenge one of their own!" His voice echoed around the camp, interrupting the silence.**

"**They're afraid," whispered Rose, "too many have been hurt tonight." Her sad tone surprised the boy, rendering him silent for a moment. Rose stood opposite him, her face was wrought with heartache and misery and he suddenly felt the urge to wrap his arms around her and protect her and reassure her that he would never hurt her but another part of him intervened. He was still furious with the girl and somehow her self pity only made him angrier. This was all her fault, why should he have to protect her from herself?**

"**They were hurt because of you Rose. You led us here," he lied. He wanted to make her suffer. If Rose thought she was to blame, the guilt would be too much to endure. Behind him, Mr Tiny raised his eyebrows at the boy's slurs but was impressed nonetheless. He knew that Steve had never expected to meet Rose at the Cirque; he had only wanted to join in the freak show's destruction. Much to Rose's despair, Steve continued.**

"**You shouldn't have come here. You put them all in danger. And now one of them is missing... isn't she?" Rose gathered enough strength to answer him.**

"**Where is she? You've taken her?" She struggled forward and clasped at the boy's jacket pleadingly. Her begs faltered as she noticed a slight smirk form around Steve's lips and her fist began to clench around his collar. **

"**Where. Is. She?" Growled Rose through gritted teeth. A stifled, arrogant laugh from Steve triggered an outcry of antagonism from within Rose and she let go of his jacket and stepped back. She could feel rage and frustration bubbling up inside of her which eventually boiled down and reached her fists. Her hand connected with his nose and made a satisfying crack. Steve staggered back and wiped the small trickle of blood away with the back of his hand. He was practically swaying with pent up anger and a snarl escaped his curled lips. Rose ducked to avoid a blow but was caught by her hair by the boy's free hand. He wove his fingers through her strands of hair and gripped her head hard. Rose screamed in pain and fear and struggled to break free but each pull separated strands of her hair from her head. Steve bent low, his face inches from hers and was about to utter a menacing threat when Rose had an idea.**

**She smacked her forehead against his face, successfully damaging his nose and at last she was released from his merciless grip. Rose staggered backwards blind; the impact had caused stars to obscure her vision. She could Steve crying out in pain and she extended an arm in order to balance herself. Instead her hand brushed against someone. She felt the wetness on her fingers as Steve's tears made contact with her skin. Surprised, Rose allowed her fingers to trace the tear's route to his chin where they had mixed with the blood that leaked from his nose and she wiped them away with a soft caress. Steve closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the pain. The girl's soothing touch expelled any rage he had left and he guided her hand with his to his cheek. Rose blinked several times until her vision was restored. In front of her, standing very close was a fragile boy, his eyes closed, with blood and tears smeared across his face.**

"Steve," said Rose silently. Steve opened his eyes as though he could read her thoughts and tried to smile. He failed and instead only managed a half-hearted snarl. Rose smiled for him although somewhat sadly and removed her hand from his face. He let it go reluctantly and watched it as it fell by the girl's side.

"Steve, come." Called the previously silent spectator. Both Steve and Rose turned to face him but the figure of Mr Tiny was barely visible in the darkness. Steve turned back to face Rose almost apologetically but she was still peering through the darkness to look at the fat, bald man. She was certain he had just tipped his head in welcome to her but chose to ignore him, still certain he was the culprit for Steve's wayward attitude.

"See you," said the boy as he turned away but Rose grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Don't," she begged, "don't leave me, please?" She knew she sounded desperate but she didn't care. After all this time, the separation had only taught her that she didn't want to live without him. To her dismay, Steve shook his head.

"I can't Rose. They said I have a destiny... or whatever." Steve struggled to find the words to describe the awesome feeling he had felt when Mr Tiny had first told him about his destiny. He had been handed back a dream he thought he had lost forever the night his best friend had betrayed him. He knew it was his fate to lead the Vampaneze to victory and to destroy those pathetic Vampires and their associates. He looked at Rose unhappily. Mr Tiny had made it clear she was not part of his destiny; in fact, it was possible she could destroy it. The girl had the power to ruin everything, all of his hopes and dreams and ambitions just by being close to him. The Vampaneze had already chosen Steve as their elected leader and therefore Rose had to be left behind.

"A destiny?" said Rose in bemusement.

"Yeah," replied Steve. He turned and walked back to where Mr Tiny was holding the door open for him. "And you're not part of it."

A horrible feeling gathered in the pit of Rose's stomach. It felt as though her heart got stuck in her throat and the bridge of her nose felt tender as her eyes started to water. His stinging words echoed around her head, blocking any other thought that attempted to comfort her. Her breath left her in a rush as she realised he didn't want her. It felt as though time had slowed down and the world around her hushed. Behind her, trees bent and swayed together in the night time breeze, leaning over to tell each other what had happened. She let the sound of their rustling leaves fill her head, their strange Chinese whispers was soft and low. As another gust of wind shook them, they recoiled in horror away from each other, gasping at the secrets they had learned. A small, broken sob rang out and it took Rose a moment to realise it came from her. He was gone, or going at least, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She looked up to see him climbing into Mr Tiny's hearse and behind him the man himself was watching her with interest. A small, almost unnoticeable moment shook Rose from her grief. It was the slightest touch, something anyone else would have disregarded, but seeing Mr Tiny reach over to pat Steve's shoulder in what looked like a simply comforting gesture provoked anger and understanding from Rose. The moment burned in her memory as Mr Tiny followed Steve into the car. He had touched his shoulder, only briefly, as a warning as if to say _he's mine, he belongs to us, he's under our control_. Rose suddenly grasped the fact that this _destiny_, or whatever Mr Tiny had told him about, was a way to control him. Promises of authority and power kept Steve within their grip.

Quickly and quietly she made up her mind to rescue Steve from their control so that he could make up his own mind on whether he truly wanted to stay with the Vampaneze after he had been given _all_ his options. She stood tall and stubborn as the car pulled out of the Cirque's grounds. As the headlights swung around the corner and faded from sight, a small figure was illuminated across the field. Rose watched as the limping creature headed towards her with a note in its tiny, grubby fists. Harkat managed what Rose thought was a grin as he handed her a crumpled note. She unfolded it, read the address and placed it in her pocket.

"Thank you," she whispered before running after the retreating car.


	14. Showtime

Around her was darkness. There was no way of telling where she was or why she was there, only that she was completely alone and sitting on a cold, damp concrete floor. Rebecca hugged her knees against the cold and tried in vain to loosen the ropes around her ankles and wrists. She could feel them rubbing against her skin leaving raw red marks on her skin. Eventually her eyes adjusted to the low light and she could see the outline of a door at the far end of the cell. There was no point in shuffling over, she was sure whoever had taken such care in binding her feet and hands would not be so careless as to leave the door unlocked.

The side of her head throbbed and ached and her pulse filled her ears. Since she could not remember arriving in her prison, she assumed her captures had knocked her out. Alone and afraid she began to cry. Her sobs echoed around the room, bouncing off the stone walls until finally, the guard outside had had enough.

"Quiet!" He shouted from outside. Rebecca ceased instantly, terrified but also strangely relieved to find she wasn't completely alone. The voice had sounded rough and irritated but also tired. She gathered he had probably been standing outside for quite some time. How long had she been in here?

Rebecca thought back to the fight at the Cirque. Her memory was hazy but she recalled the men advancing and throwing Evra to one side first before coming for her. Wait! Hadn't Darren been there? Rebecca rubbed the dirt out of her eyes and opened them wide as if trying to see into the past. No, he had left by then. Darren had been rescued by Mr Crepsley and had fled, leaving her and Evra to defend themselves. They had been a poor match for the cruel bunch of Vampaneze and had nothing to defend themselves. One of them had made a grab for her with his rough, grimy hands but Evra had pushed it violently out the way. This had provoked hostility and aggression from the group and Evra had quickly found himself pushed up against a wall, help several inches off the floor by a fist around his scaly throat.

"Get off!" Rebecca recalled screaming as one of them had made a grab for her again. She had hit out at the Vampaneze holding Evra but had missed. Fortunately, she had diverted his attention and had distracted him into dropping her friend. Unfortunately, he had headed straight for her. That was when she had blacked out. The last thing she remembered seeing was the malicious sneer of the advancing creature.

By herself, Rebecca began to whimper again. The memory of that terrifying man crept back into her thoughts and she began to imagine off sorts of horrible things lurking in the darkness around her, reaching out to touch her or worse. She moved her legs closer to her and suddenly screamed when something brushed her leg. Upon closer inspection, she found it was only a stray piece of rope but her shriek was enough to attract the guard's attention. Light flooded the cell as the door was swung open. A tall, square silhouette filled the door's frame, heaving with exasperation, but he did not enter. He simply glared at her and whispered menacingly:

"Be quiet, or I may not be able to prevent myself from spilling some of your precious blood!" Rebecca visibly shook with fear as he slammed the door shut again and locked it. Bolts slid into place audibly, confirming Rebecca's suspicions about being trapped. Darkness swelled around her, suffocating her and overpowering her. A small sob escaped from her throat, followed by a slightly louder one. Rebecca pressed her hand across her mouth in an attempt to muffle the following series of sobs but failed. The sound of bolts being hastily unlocked evoked a rich fear in Rebecca and she shrunk back against the dripping stone walls as the heavy door slammed back against the wall.

"Right, that's it!" Said the man threateningly as he put his foot over the threshold.

"No," begged Rebecca, "Please!" To her relief, the man halted by it was not due to her pleading cries. A pale hand rested on the guards shoulder as a muffled voice whispered into his ear. Somewhat reluctant, the silhouetted figure shuffled off and was replaced by another.

"In here," he ordered. Rebecca watched as several shapes emerged from the corridor and began to push three new prisoners into her cell. They stumbled forwards with stifled cries and fell into the room. Rebecca shuffled backwards to make room, the space was very small. The door closed behind them to the sound of laughter but a small window in the door was left open allowing a small amount of light to enter the dark room. The beam fell across three bodies, all bound and gagged but thankfully unhurt. A middle aged woman attempted to cuddle her young daughter as her husband glanced at Rebecca fearfully. Rebecca immediately pitied the family. Their faces were stained with tears and they visibly shook with fear.

"Who are you?" asked Rebecca in surprise.

"Mhmm hmm!" Cried the man. His voice was suppressed by a piece of ragged cloth tied around his mouth.

"Oh," said the girl, thankful she still had the power of speech, "Well, I'm Rebecca. I was taken here a few hours ago, I think, but I don't know why and I don't know where we are." Her words steadily grew quieter as she realised how desperate their situation sounded. Voicing her predicament aloud only me it worse. They were truly trapped.

Hours dragged past with little or no sound however there was never really any silence. The prisoners could hear the scratching of rats around them and the regular drip of a leak from the ceiling in the corner. Sometimes the guards outside would cough or laugh, reminding them of their presence. Rebecca and the family would often drift in and out of an uneasy sleep, never really feeling at peace or relaxed. Rebecca had woken up several times to hear the others crying or whimpering softly and she often joined in. Eventually, when the hostages were ready to give up, the beam of light from the door's hatch was obstructed by a face peering in at them through the darkness. It was a man and he laughed harshly to see the frightened expressions on the captive's faces.

"Show time!" He giggled as he unbolted the door. It swung open to reveal several more Vampaneze waiting with ropes and gags.

"Let's go," said their leader. The men crowded the small room and picked up the captives as though they were nothing but bags of rubbish waiting to be carried out to the curb. They lifted the little one first and her parents cried out in protest to see her handled so viciously. They were each rewarded with a sharp slap across their heads.

"Don't!" Called out Rebecca before she could stop herself. She bit he lip as she realised she had just reminded them that she had no gag.

"Restrain her," said one lazily and a beady eyed man lurched forward with a torn piece of material to tie around her mouth. Rebecca retched as the dirty cloth was knotted. Without further conversation or explanation as to where they were being taken, the group were led along dark carpeted passage ways and up several flights of narrow wooden stairs until they reached a curtain. Through it stepped a hideous man with an insane look in his dark red eyes. His dark hair was matted and wild and appeared to have been brushed back into a pony tail. He stuck his thumbs in his pockets as he addressed the group.

"Yum yum," he complimented, "Tie them up." The four were pushed apart as strangers wearing dark clothes began to attach them to harnesses. The man who appeared to be their leader walked in and out of the hostages nodding and grinning like a maniac.

"Lovely," he smiled with a thick Scottish accent, "I like them plump and juicy!" He made a grab for the woman beside Rebecca causing her to squeal and writhe in panic. The man laughed loudly and continued to walk amongst them. He hissed and spat t them, enjoying seeing them flinch away from him. Suddenly there was a commotion from behind the man which distracted him from his teasing.

"Murlough?" A voice said, "Man! Where are you now?" A teenage boy threw the curtains aside in one dramatic sweep as he entered the room. He started as he saw the captives all bound up but then smiled in surprise.

"Oh you got them then? I wasn't sure they'd make it here intact although I did give specific instructions..." He strode arrogantly round to peer into the faces of the bewildered family.

"Should have adopted me!" He laughed as he walked away, "too late now though... Murlough's got his eye on you!" The father made some attempt to call out to the boy from behind his gag but was silenced with a quick blow to the stomach. Steve made his way down the line until he reached Rebecca.

"This the freak?" He asked no one in particular. Beside him, Murlough nodded and pulled a face.

"Gross," sniggered the boy. He gave Rebecca a push on her shoulder and to her horror instead of falling backwards she spun gently around in a circle. Looking up, she found she had been attached to a harness connected to a pole on the roof.

"Hoist them up," ordered Steve. He took several steps backwards, his chin lifted defiantly to watch the four rise slowly toward the ceiling. The group wriggled in panic and cried out as them were hauled up above what appeared to be a stage.

"Like a bunch of piñatas, aren't they guys?" The Vampaneze murmured in agreement. "But when you split them open, instead of sweets, you get delicious blood!" There was laughter and cheers from below and for once, Rebecca was glad she was so high above them, safely out of reach. From her vantage point, she could see clearly around the room. It was empty save a few Vampaneze running in through the double doors from outside. Below her she could see the crowds being cleared. Murlough directed the groups out the back and Steve followed suit. Soon only Murlough was left.

"He's here! Darren's here!" Called an unseen person from somewhere below. Murlough chuckled and glanced up at his captives.

"Showtime," he whispered.


	15. False destiny

Rose held her breath and stuck as close to the wall as possible until the young couple had passed. Hidden in the shadowy doorway of a closed shop, she watched as the pair passed her without seeing her. They were too involved in their embrace to notice anything out of the ordinary around them. When they had disappeared, laughing and giggling around the corner, Rose consulted her piece of paper. Of course, she knew the address of the old theatre already after having spent a few nights there whilst living rough but she wanted to check the street's name once more. In the low light, it was almost impossible to read the street signs plastered in the brick walls of crumbling buildings on the street corners. Fortunately, this area of town was mostly derelict meaning there was little chance of being spotted wandering around lost.

_Not lost_, Rose reminded herself. She wasn't lost. She knew exactly where the theatre was, thanks to Harkat and she knew exactly where she was because the street sign beside her told her quite clearly. She just didn't know how to connect the two. Rose cast her eyes upwards and sighed. The orange glow from street lamps prevented any stars from shining through although strangely allowed the odd airplane's flickering beam to interrupt the otherwise peaceful skies. Puddles still remained between the cobbles which lined the road and they reflected Rose's exasperated expression. She was sure the car had come this way. Instead of following Mr Tiny's car, she had obeyed the instructions on the note and had aimed to find the address but in between flits, she had caught glimpses of the vehicle straying from the road. Perhaps if she had stuck to her original plan of finding the theatre on her own instead of following the car, she wouldn't have got lost. Wait – not _lost_, just... led astray. Sighing, Rose decided there was little point in hiding out outside the butcher's shop so she crossed the road and turned the corner, hoping for some kind of sign post.

There, straight ahead, was the best sign she could have hoped for. The car. It was parked neatly between a dumpster and a large white van outside the back entrance to the old derelict theatre. The distinctive number plate, Des-T1ny, was clearly visible in the little light given off by the street's lamp.

"Destiny?" Scoffed Rose aloud, "Give me a break!"

"Who's there?" A voice rang out suddenly. Rose swore quietly and ducked back behind the dumpster. Hurried footsteps approached and Rose crouched as low as possible to avoid being seen.

"What now?" Came another voice further away. The footsteps stopped only a few feet away from Rose. She held her breath and listened.

"I heard something!" Said a man's voice near her, somewhat hurt.

"What again?"

"Yeah, from over here this time."

"No you didn't. You're imagining it!"

"No I'm not! It came from over here!" The man was shouting now, clearly offended. His companion merely groaned.

"Idiot!" He called. The sound of a door being slammed rang out and echoed along the empty street.

"I heard that!" Cried a voice in protest. Rose could hear the man grumbling and muttering to himself under his breath as he walked away. There was the sound of a chair being scraped along the pavement and Rose risked a peek around the dumpster to see the lookout sitting with his back to her, his chin resting in his hands, keeping watch down the opposite street. His chair was blocking the entrance to the theatre. Rose rolled her eyes. She wanted to reach Steve by attracting as little attention as possible. She inched forwards on her hands and knees taking care to do so quietly. The man was still in his chair facing away from her. She crept forward, one hand in front of the other until she was nearly in full view of the door. Suddenly the man stood up. Rose froze. If he turned his head the slightest fraction, he would see her.

"I know you're there," he said quietly. How could he have heard her? Rose assured herself she hadn't made any noise. This must be another false alarm. Even so, Rose retreated back behind the dumpster very quickly just to be safe. The man did not turn around; instead he kept his eyes glued on a spot in the distant. At the end of the street, a mist had begun to gather and swell. Amongst it, a dark shadow moved and grew. In a panic, the man kicked his chair back and hammered on the door.

"Open up, I see something!" He hissed but the door remained closed.

"Vlad! Vlad? Open up!" Again, the closed door refused to allow him entry. The Vampaneze kicked the door angrily and glanced over his shoulder at the mist. It had grown and a distinct figure emerged from it like a bat with flapping wings. The guard climbed up the drainpipe next to the entrance and shimmed out onto the building's ledge in an attempt to regain the element of surprise. Rose watched in awe, shaking her head in disbelief at the man's effort to thwart the intruder. The shape was closer now and Rose could see that the bat's wings were in fact tails of a cloak belonging to a tall, wild-haired man. When he judged the man to be near enough, the Vampaneze threw himself of the ledge and landed gracefully in front of him in position ready to attack. There was a quick swish of a blade cutting through the night's air and the Vampaneze doubled over as the stranger's knife buried itself in his stomach. His cry of pain attracted the attention of his comrades who flocked to his assistance. Rose crouched low trying not to be seen.

"Wait!" The large figure of Mr Tiny emerged from one of the open doors along the side of the building. He stood between his men with his back to Rose.

"Allow him in gentlemen. I want to see this play out." He and the others stepped back to allow the man past. As the light from the theatre hit his face, Mr Crepsley's features provoked a gasp from Rose and she covered her mouth to hide it. Fortunately, the party didn't hear her and they followed Mr Crepsley into the theatre silently.

The door closed softly with a creak and the street was once against immersed in darkness, the silence filled with the groans of the dying guard. Since there was no danger of him hurting her, Rose walked freely out from behind the dumpster over to the door. It was locked.

"Damn it!" She cursed. Her cuss attracted the attention of the injured guard and he looked up in surprise.

"Hey!" He tried to call out but the effort of his words caused him to fall back against the cold floor in pain. Rose looked at him sympathetically.

"Don't hurt yourself," she said as she walked over. The man had his eyes closed in agony and was breathing heavily. Rose unknotted his hands from around the blade's handle and yanked it out. The Vampaneze cried out in anguish.

"Thanks," smiled Rose as she wiped the blood off the weapon on his jacket. She pocketed it and made her way to the back of the theatre. Fortunately the door there was open. Leaving the wounded man in the middle of the road, she closed the door behind her.

Inside the dim light revealed very little of her surroundings and so Rose was forced to use her hands to guide her along the walls. Straight ahead, a locked door blocked her path but the stairs to its immediate right beckoned her up invitingly. Careful not to make any noise, Rose crept up the narrow staircase holding the knife by her side just in case. As she neared the top, she could hear voices and began to see the beginnings of light. Rose recognised the second floor's circle of seats as the rows beneath the gods that she had slept in when she had been sleeping rough here. Nothing had been changed except one thing. At the far end sat a large man with a bucket of popcorn and a pair of binoculars. He seemed to find the view through his lens extremely amusing. Rose crept along the back of the seats on her hands and knees jumping regularly at the crashes and shouts from below. It was clear there was a fight going on below.

At last Rose found herself directly behind the hidden spectator with nothing but half a dozen rows of dusty theatre chairs between them. Standing up, she witnessed the apparently hilarious scene of destruction below. Mr Crepsley landed with a thud on the floor below them. Rose gasped to see him so defenceless. He attempted to stand, bloody and bruised but fell back onto his knees. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose spotted Steve climbing over the rail into the stands to confront Mr Crepsley. As Mr Tiny lent further over the banister for a closer look, Rose ducked behind the red velvet curtain beside her and hurried down the steps. Now only the thin curtain separated her from the demon with the binoculars. She prayed he was too distracted by the unfolding events to see her trying to attract Steve's attention.

This time, Mr Crepsley managed to stand, shaking off the ceiling's plaster which had gathered on his coat. He glanced up in time to see Steve pull a dagger out of his pocket and advance with an expression of grim determination. Rose stumbled forward in shock, skipping out the last couple of stairs and narrowly avoided toppling over the rail onto the floor below by grabbing onto the curtain. It shook so much that she was surprised Mr Tiny, only inches away, hadn't noticed. Steve, however, did notice. He glanced up to see what had caused the movement and did a double take when he saw Rose's frightened expression. Her knuckles were white with the force they were gripping the rail with and her eyes were wide as her mouth framed the word "No" in silence. Steve didn't hesitate. With one hand he plunged the blade into Mr Crepsley's side and in quick succession, thrust another into his shoulder. It was all Rose could do not to scream as she watched another Vampaneze hurl the Vampire over the edge where he landed on his back on the floor, catching the rail on his way down. On the other side of the curtain, Mr Tiny lent forward in his seat eagerly.

A quick sob escaped Rose's throat as her eyes lingered on the space in the air where Mr Crepsley had vanished. The man who had thrown him jumped over the rail gracefully to follow him. Steve appeared to look back over his shoulder at Rose before he jumped but changed his mind. Within seconds, he had disappeared too. Rose ran down the flights of stairs as fast as she could. She hated that old Vampire but there was no way she was going to let him die at the hands of his enemies. Flitting down the staircase saved her enough time to round the corner just in time to see a man holding Mr Crepsley up by his shoulders hand Steve a knife.

"He's all yours lad," he said gruffly. Steve grabbed the weapon and prepared to finish the man off.

"No!" Shrieked Rose as she was shoved roughly out of the way. Steve looked up and locked eyes with her moments before he was knocked backwards by Darren. The boy had rocketed past Rose and lunged at his old best friend with a vengeance. About to run forward to assist Mr Crepsley, she was stopped by the sight of him leaping up and stabbing his arch nemesis. The room seemed to freeze with the shock of the Vampire's unexpected move. Mr Tiny leaned back with a smile of surprised satisfaction as though someone had just told him the punch line to a witty though not particularly funny joke. When the moment had passed, and the two had begun conversing like old friends rather than foes, Rose let her hand drop from her mouth to her side and glanced past them to watch Steve.

His face was a picture of disbelief as he stared at his dying mentor and Rose felt a stab of pity for him. Any rage or feelings of revenge looked as though they had evaporated from his mind as he watched the two with his mouth slightly open. Rose stepped forward; she longed to somehow comfort him and wrap her arms around his meek looking frame. Darren also looked on as the Vampaneze fell back against the floor promising an imminent war as he died. Suddenly Mr Tiny appeared from another staircases' exit. Rose shrunk back into the shadows, scared anyone would spot her.

"Marvellous!" He cried, clapping, "Magnificent really." He pointed his cane at Darren who looked up in surprise and then again at Steve, complimenting their 'performances'.

"Bravo, bravo!" Steve found his voice although it was slightly shaken.

"It's just like you said," he muttered, "We started the war." Rose glared at Mr Tiny's back accusingly. Steve's words had confirmed her accusations. He had indeed been filling his head with false promises and destinies. It was becoming apparent to Rose that she needed to reach Steve as quickly as possible and preferably behind Mr Tiny's back. If she was caught, she would not be able to rely on their friendship to coax Steve away; it was obvious he craved power over anything else. She just hoped she could reach him before it was too late.


	16. Unpredictable

The room grew colder and Mr Tiny's smug smile returned as he heard Steve acknowledge his prophecies. Mr Crepsley exchanged a meaningful glance with Darren but, hidden behind a curtain, Rose missed their fleeting looks of anxiousness; she was watching Steve carefully. His chest rose and fell dramatically as he drew large breaths possibly due to his rising excitement of the threat of an oncoming war. He glared at his enemies as though already contemplating an attack strategy already. Darren however seemed less eager to involve others in their conflict.

"It won't start a war," he said, "if no one hears about it." In a split second, both boys had lunged at each other's throats, intending to destroy one another, restore the peace and gain power. Rose rolled her eyes. Sick to the back teeth of fighting, she pocketed the dagger and headed backstage. High up on the wings, Rebecca watched her leave and swung down to follow. At ground level, the air was warmer and noisier and Rebecca found Rose had headed towards the exit, probably craving the silence of the cold night air. Out of the dusty darkness, her slender figure emerged and Rebecca jogged over to her trying to catch up. The girl was almost running towards the door.

"Rose!" She called. Rose spun around but her smile faded slightly when she saw it was only Rebecca. Rebecca slowed slightly, hurt that Rose wasn't pleased or at the very least, concerned to see her.

"What?" Asked the freak. Rose assumed a fixed friendly smile and wiped something away from the corner of her eye.

"Nothing," she sighed, "nothing. I'm glad you're alright. I came to find you but when I saw you cut yourself loose, I figured you had probably run back to the Cirque."

"How did you know where I was?" asked Rebecca but Rose just shook her head sadly.

"Um, Evra... and a little help from Harkat."

"Harkat?"

"Yeah. Um, can we leave now then?" Rose appeared eager to get away as quickly as possible but Rebecca frowned.

"We can't just leave. We have to help Darren and Mr Crepsley." She turned to head back but Rose grabbed her wrist. Her eyes were watering and her lips were stretched tight into a "Please". Rebecca sensed something was wrong. Anxious to get back and aid Darren, she asked what it was hurriedly.

"Nothing!" Repeated Rose but her lip began to tremble and she took a deep shaky breath. She looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

"It's been a long night, that's all. I just want to get out of here."

"But we should help..."

"No!" Cried Rose a little louder than she'd intended. She was still confused and anger about Steve and needed to clear her head.

"I don't want to see his face!" She muttered but Rebecca heard her. Thinking she was talking about Darren, she took offense and yanked her arm out of Rose's tight grip and walked back to the theatre's stage. Alone in the suddenly vast corridor, Rose wrapped her arms around her and sighed. If she returned to help, she would almost certainly have to pick a side. Right now, she needed time to think. With great difficulty, Rose turned her back on the entrance to the theatre and with gritted teeth, walked out into the cold night's welcoming embrace.

Outside it was easier to breathe and Rose sighed heavily and watched her breath rise in curls of vapour. Upon exiting the building, the echoes of the fight had been left behind and the street's stillness left her free to think. So Mr Tiny had successfully convinced Steve he had some sort of pre-destined future and now the boy was intent on filling it. Not that he took much persuading, thought Rose, he craved power and longed for control. Tonight's events had utterly confused her. Back at the Cirque, Rose had thought Steve was under some kind of spell. Caught in a web of Mr Tiny's lies, he was trapped forever unless cut loose by Rose but his actions at the theatre had swayed her into believing he was capable of fulfilling his own future, he just chose to fulfil the future Mr Tiny had laid out for him. Rose had been shocked to see him launch himself so readily at Mr Crepsley with knives in both hands. He had intended to kill but by some incredible chance, missed. Rose hugged herself tighter as she wondered if he would ever attempt to kill her on Mr Tiny's orders. The man had informed Steve that Rose was an obstacle capable of interfering with his destiny and preventing him from reaching his dream. That may have been true, thought Rose, when he cared about her and what she thought, but since then he made it quite clear that he no longer loved her and his actions tonight had only confirmed that he would do anything to gain power. If he had no trouble killing the innocent to fulfil his destiny, it wouldn't bother him to sweep Rose aside either. Rose fought back tears as she thought about how Steve had no problem finding his place in this world yet she remained an outcast yet again.

Suddenly there was a bang from around the corner making Rose jump violently. She calmed down in time to realise that it was only the stage door's exit slamming shut in the wind however voices soon followed.

"You _have_ to teach me how to do that someday!" Rose recognised the nearing voice as Steve's and she froze when she saw she was unable to hide behind anything in the deserted street. They were most likely heading to the car parked down the road to her left; maybe they wouldn't spot her.

"Oh I'll teach you everything son, all my jives and gambles." Mr Tiny was walking beside Steve waving his staff theatrically in the air as he made more false promises. Steve's face lit up and a dangerous gleam lit his dark eyes as he smirked. Rose's shoulder's drooped. It was useless pretending, Steve was happiest as a Vampaneze.

"Now, ready to go meet your people?" The car's door clicked open and swung back on its hinges as if by magic to allow them entry. The two walked towards it followed by a hobbling figure. A little monster jogged to keep up, its robes lifted to its knobbly knees to stop it tripping over. Rose turned away, not wanting to see Steve get into the car. It would be too final, like seeing a coffin's lid close forever. Her movement caught the attention of the small creature who hissed to alert his master of their unwanted spectator. Mr Tiny, already seated in the car, swivelled in his seat to see the intruder walking away dejectedly. Apprehension seized him as he noted Steve's torn expression.

"Get in," he instructed but his prodigy hesitated.

"Steve!" He repeated louder but the boy had made up his mind. He closed the car's door softly, rudely trapping Mr Tiny inside and called out Rose's name. She did not look back.

"Rose!" He called again, this time walking quickly after her. Rose glanced back over her shoulder and hesitated slightly when she saw Steve. She so wanted to run back towards him but something stopped her. Behind him, Mr Tiny had exited the car and was watching with interest. Rose interpreted his intrigued expression as smug and worried that her earlier fleeting concerns that Steve might be ordered to dispose of her had come true. She shoved her hand in her pocket and gripped the dagger's handle and carried on walking.

"Rose, wait," puffed Steve. He was jogging now and his patience was thinning. To his delight, Rose spun around but her expression was fierce.

"What?" She demanded. Surprised, Steve couldn't think of a retort.

"What? What do you want Steve?" Rose repeated. Steve's brow furrowed and his expression darkened. Rose was being difficult.

"I wanted to talk to you," he hissed but Rose cut him off.

"No. You got to talk earlier, remember?" Steve reddened.

"My turn," she snarled, "I don't know what kind of crap the fat guy's been feeding you and I don't want to know, OK? Think you've made it clear that I'm not part of it so just leave me alone." Steve recoiled in confusion as Rose advanced.

"So go! Go on! Go follow him and the others, leave me out of it!"

"I'm not following them," retorted Steve, "I'm their leader! They follow me!"

"Is that what they told you?" Laughed Rose bitterly, "You believe that? Why would they want _you_ as a leader? What so special about _you_, huh? They don't care about you Steve. They want someone to _die_ for them, to die for their cause. I know you don't really care about them. You _can't_! You don't know them. All you know is what they've told you and most of that are lies!" She paused for breath and glared at Steve. Strangely, he remained silent which infuriated Rose even more.

"Well!" She prompted.

"Well come with me," he offered. Rose sighed heavily.

"What?" she said, exasperated.

"Come with me," repeated the boy, a smile spreading across his face. A brilliant idea had just struck him.

"They don't care about me but _you_ do. Come with us and tell me the truth!" He made a grab for Rose's hand but she pulled it out of his way.

"What makes you think I care about you?"

"Oh, come on Rosie!" laughed Steve arrogantly, "Seriously?"

"Serious. I used to, way back when I knew who you were but you've completely changed! I don't know who you are any more, you're too different!"

"I'm still me Rose." Rose shook her head.

"No you're not. I saw you back there Steve, you enjoyed that didn't you. It was a miracle you didn't kill Mr Crepsley. You aimed for his heart!" Rose looked disgusted by this.

"You distracted me!"

"Oh, so it's my fault he isn't dead?"

"Yes! No! I mean..." Steve threw up his arms in exasperation, "I mean I saw you and changed my mind. You reminded me I'm not that person Rose. I kill for food, yeah, and that one time with Kooky Kersey... but I couldn't do it. But I couldn't not do it either, I had to wound him. Not for me, for Murlough." He hesitated on his old mentor's name and Rose felt a stab of pity for him.

"I know you don't understand," he muttered, "But please try to. Come back with me Rose."

"And do what? Live with you and a bunch of savages?" Rose could tell Steve wanted to apologise but he hadn't made up his mind either. Not really. She knew a small part of him still hoped Mr Tiny had been telling him the truth and that he really was a leader of the Vampaneze. Rose thought that by inviting her back to the lair, Steve hoped she would see that Mr Tiny's promises of a destiny were accurate.

"You really don't care," said Steve. It was a statement, not a question and he hoped she would contradict him.

"No," lied Rose. Inside, she felt her heart practically fall apart but her answer seemed to harden Steve's.

"Fine" He looked over his shoulder at Mr Tiny and then back at the girl in front of him. Rose stared at the floor, she knew if she caught his eye she would blurt out the truth. She still loved him, she wanted him back but not like this. She wanted the old Steve back, the one who only cared about her and nothing else, least of all Mr Tiny and his destinies.

"Well, goodbye then." Steve stared at her stoically and made to twist away but Rose grabbed his shoulder.

"No!" She cried. Steve's smile returned. Not a sneer or a smirk but a genuine happy smiled tainted with relief. He held out his hand for her to take but she slapped it out of the way.

"You said goodbye last time. I'm not letting _you_ walk away from _me_ again!"

Steve opened his arms to embrace her but Rose spun on her heel and walked firmly in the other direction leaving him opened mouthed and alone on the pavement.

"_I'm_ leaving _you_!" She yelled. Her goodbye echoed around the empty street and lingered in the air. Helpless, Steve watched her leave and realised what he'd lost. Behind him, Mr Tiny raised an eyebrow. Young love was so... _unpredictable_ and, hopefully, over.


	17. Sleeping giant

**Author's note: Just thought I'd submit this lil chapter to put your minds at rest. There is still more to come, don't worry, this isn't the last of our Rose. But please let me know what you think because all your comments let me know what direction I'm heading in... I hope its the right direction.**

**Enjoy,**

**DC**

Crisp grey ashes fell softly to the ground as they were released by the bitter breeze that stunk of stale smoke. The fires had been replaced by scorched patches of earth and bits of debris which stood where caravans had once sat firmly and proudly. Sluggish clouds trooped across the evening sunlight, hiding it from the Cirque. Mr Tall watched them thoughtfully. Perhaps they were trying to shield the blackened and broken camp from the sun's rays as though the clouds were attempting to protect the Cirque from any more damage. Whatever the reason for the dark clouds presence, Mr Tall was appreciative. Sunlight would have been inappropriate under the circumstances. The rest of the Cirque du Freak was in morning for a fallen member of their extended family. Last night had seen the death of one of their residents and the injuries of several more.

With a deep and loud sigh, Mr Tall stood and stretched his long legs. He rarely had time to himself and although the circumstances concerning how he had acquired it were sad, he wanted to make the most of it. The river was not too far away so he decided to take a stroll toward it. Well, river was a bit of an exaggeration; stream would be more fitting, or creek. Anyway, whatever it was had water trickling through it at a lazy pace, rolling over stones and pebbles or splitting around them and joining up later. The hushed sound of the idle water soothed Mr Tall's thoughts and replaced them with memories of himself as a child wading gently between the soft lapping waves of the stream. It was a tranquil place, ideal for reflection and peace of mind.

A nervous expression watched him warily. She was reluctant to interrupt but the girl felt she had to enlighten the man to her whereabout or else if he caught her, he would assume she was spying. That was the last thing she wanted. Stealing closer to him, the intruder took care to avoid making any noise. She was still unsure whether she should alert him. After all, Mr Tall looked so rested and calm and her presence would disrupt that. The Cirque's ringmaster had been so kind to her, taking her in when she had nowhere else to go. The Cirque was more than her home now, it was her family and she appreciated the man who had introduced it to her and offered her a place.

Finally, she decided not to stir the sleeping giant. He deserved his brief nap out here in the fresh air away from the sad atmosphere back in the Cirque. As quietly as she had arrived, Rebecca left the calm woodland and gingerly made her way back to the camp. Darren would be waiting for her.

A moment later, Mr Tall opened one eye and made sure the trespasser had gone. He sighed deeply and shuffled into a more comfortable position to snooze. The ever considerate Rebecca would make sure he was not interrupted for at least another hour.


	18. Apologies

**Author's note: Okay, so, really important bit here - to understand this completely read my '10 drabbles about Steve and Rose' and 'Happy ending' (about R&S). I've tried to make it as clear as possible so you don't have to but I think it would really help you understand what Rose went through and Happy ending tells ya what happend next in case you want to know! **

**Anyway hope you like it. **

**DC**

Galaxies burned behind his eyelids sending shooting stars falling into infinity in the blackness in front of him. Planets formed and exploded and twirled across the endless space. His view fluttered slightly just as he focused on a smaller world light years away as a sound far away diverted his attention. It sounded like an exhale of breath but Mr Tiny blocked it out as he pinpointed the tiny planet again. It had been annoying him for a while. Uninhabited and uninhabitable, it served no purpose in the universe. There was a small and insignificant flash of light and the planet popped out of existence with hushed explosion. The universe stretched slightly and the man's eyes narrowed as he smirked. His satisfied was short lived however as his annoyance returned with the arrival of another exasperated sigh. Mr Tiny opened his eyes. The image of the universe vanished and a blurry figure swan into view. As his vision adjusted to the new light he could just about see Steve slouched in a black coffin in the corner of the room. A fresh corpse drained of any blood lay lifeless on the floor; the evidence of his indulgence was smeared around the boy's mouth.

Mr Tiny glowered at him but Steve did not look up. _Probably moping_, thought Mr Tiny, _he's been 'thinking' a lot recently. That's never a good sign. _As if to humour him, Steve sighed again even louder. Mr Tiny knew better than to tell him to shut up. Last time he had done that, the teenager had gone on a rampage and literally drained the surrounding area of blood. Yet, Steve clearly wanted some attention.

"Are you alright?" ventured Mr Tiny. He was never really any good at consoling anyone. He adopted what he hoped was a concerned expression. Steve didn't even look at him, he just shrugged.

"Hungry perhaps?" he asked. Steve kicked the carcass and shook his head.

"Well what?" snapped the man, his patience finally ending.

"Nothing, I guess," replied Steve broodingly. He hopped out of the coffin, landing lightly on the floor and swept from the room, taking care to slam the door on his way out. Mr Tiny did not flinch at the noise he had anticipated. The boy's behaviour worried him. He had been sulking since that night at the theatre when Rose had approached him. Damn that interfering girl! She could so easily destroy his plans just by existing but it was too risky to have her killed. The War was upon them now, if any of the Vampires or Vampaneze failed to live up to the prophecy, his plans would fail. Mr Tiny suddenly struck his fist into his palm hard. Why hadn't he included Rose in the prophecy? He hated not being able to control her fate. He hadn't foreseen the affect she would have on the boys and hated himself for it. A rouge pawn in his game of chess, she had the potential to cause a lot of damage to the events he had already set up. _Oh well_, he mused, _her existence will be... interesting._

Meanwhile, Steve lounged alone in his room, staring at nothing in particular and letting his thoughts wander. He knew he shouldn't let that girl bother him so much; she was only a girl. It wasn't even as though they had got along when they had been together either. They had battled through argument after fight after argument. They were both too stubborn, that was why. They had both been too proud to apologise first. Memories came flooding back as though the thought of Rose had opened the floodgates to the past.

_They had been exhausted after travelling back from a sleepy town way out in the country somewhere. They had been told to feed away from the main city after their last supper had attracted the unwanted attention of a police investigation and so after many hours of flitting through a barren landscape, they had found the perfect town. Steve recalled how Rose had held his hand all the way there as if she were scared if she let go she would lose him again. Her grip provoked feelings of guilt from within Steve as he thought about how she had watched him die, thinking he was gone forever. He had kissed her passionately every time he thought about it in an attempt to reassure her and make up for what he had done. Rose pushed him away and smiled coyly._

"_Stop," she smiled, taking his hand again._

"_You know I love you though right? You know I'll never ever leave you again?" _

"_Yes. You mentioned it." She rolled her eyes, loosing count of the amount of times Steve had apologised. She just wanted to forget about it now and move on._

"_But I won't okay? Ever!" he clasped her hand in his and went to kiss her again but she pulled away._

"_Don't," she muttered. Steve looked taken aback. _

"_You can't just _kiss_ it better," she sighed letting go of his hand. Steve snatched it back up again and held on tightly._

"_But I've said I'm sorry! I- "_

"_I know. I've forgiven you a hundred times already!"_

"_But... but you just said..."_

"_Can we just forget about it?" shrugged Rose, annoyed at herself for bringing up the subject. Steve, on the other hand, looked distraught. He shook his head firmly._

"_No," he said furiously, "no, tell me what it is."_

"_What it is? Steve you left me!"_

"_I said -"_

"_It's not that easy, Steve," Rose pushed him sadly and brushed past the boy, "I know you are but it's not that simple." Steve looked distressed. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her gently around to face him. Kissing her wouldn't solve anything, he knew she needed an explanation though he wasn't sure if he could explain himself. It wasn't that easy. However the desperate look hovering across Rose's deep brown eyes gave him the confidence he needed to try. _

"_Alright, alright, I know you can never just accept an apology from me. What I did to you was horrible and I will never forgive myself for it. Never." Rose looped a consoling arm around his shoulder and sat him down on a nearby wall. Steve took a deep breath and continued, never looking away from her face._

"_Darren had just died," he said softly, "I couldn't take it. Any of it. He wasn't supposed to die young, I was. I was the one no one would miss." Rose tried to correct him but he shook his head._

"_No, you don't understand. I wasn't thinking right. To me, the world didn't care. I was alone and after that night at the Cirque, confused. And angry. You ever felt like that? It's like you can't breathe or think straight. Everything I did, all the normal stuff like school and hanging around with you felt different. I had _Bad Blood_, Rose." Rose attempted to interrupt yet again but Steve bitter laugh drowned out her voice._

"_And I believed him. Well, until Mr Tiny told me the truth. I wasn't destined to be one of _them_." He spat out the last word as though it were a horrible curse._

"_Destined?" questioned Rose but Steve ignored her._

"_Don't you see? I had no other choice. I couldn't ignore it, Rose, I knew I was different. I was _meant_ to be something else."_

"_No choice? Wasn't I a -"_

"_No, Rose it was my destiny! I was meant for this!" Rose's expression hadn't changed, except possibly grown sadder. She looked away hoping her water filled eyes would leak and betray her. Steve lowered his voice again._

"_I hadn't seen my dad in years. My mum was drunk all the time. I absolutely hated my life. But Mr Tiny made me feel different, like I wasn't just some idiot kid."_

"_You were depressed," Rose reasoned. She had always assumed it right from the very moment after Steve had jumped to his 'death.' Saying it aloud and seeing Steve's uncomfortable expression somehow confirmed her conclusion._

"_I guess. You were the only one who ever made me feel better Rose, but after that night... not even you..." he broke off and looked down, embarrassed by the girl's stare. She wasn't going to forgive him, he could see that now. How stupid of him to think that saying sorry could suffice. Like a kiss could make it all better! Steve was caught off guard when Rose suddenly crashed her lips against his and pulled him closer. He could feel her wet cheeks as she pulled away to hug him. He sighed with a mixture of relief and happiness and held her tightly. Rose sniffed but allowed a few more tears fall. He had been depressed, not selfish. She knew she couldn't have stopped him. She kissed him again, finally understanding how a kiss could be interpreted as an apology._

"_I'm sorry I doubted you," she said quietly, "I know- "_

_"I'll never ever leave you again," _

"_Yeah," laughed Rose. She regarded Steve with delight though one hesitation nagged uncertainly at the back of her mind._

"_What do you mean you were meant to be a Vampaneze?"_

"_Like, my destiny," said Steve cheerfully missing the worry visibly creep across Rose's forehead in the form of a frown, "like that was always who I was meant to be." When the girl didn't reply, Steve finally noticed the confusion etched across her features._

"_Don't you think I'm better how I am now? That we're better? Come on, we're stronger, faster, deadlier..."_

"_Deadlier," mused Rose, "we killed those people. We couldn't help it."_

"_Well, no. I couldn't help that first couple but I admit I was greedy about the last few."_

"_Greedy?" Said Rose, shocked. She didn't understand. The word greedy suggested Steve had chosen to kill those people but she knew that couldn't be right. They couldn't help what they were or how they fed. It was horrible but it was their nature. Nevertheless, she had to be sure._

"_Greedy? You were starving. You couldn't help yourself."_

"_Sure," winked Steve. Rose gasp provoked the truth from the boy._

"_Oh all right. I admit it, I ate earlier..." he smiled and stood up for another kiss but Rose backed away._

"_Ate earlier...? Were you still hungry? I don't get it..." her voice trailed off, begging to be corrected._

"_I told you, I was being greedy. It was too much fun to resist. Man! All that blood! And you!" He pointed an accusing finger at the stunned girl._

"_You were amazing. You just leapt on them and didn't let go, huh. Instant kill!" He punched his fist in the air as though his favourite team had just scored and looked at Rose admiringly, totally ignoring her expression of horror and disgust._

"_Now do you see? We were meant this, you and me. We were destined to do this together. Don't you think we're better?"_

_Rose mouthed something incomprehensible and staggered backwards. Steve reached out in concern to see her nearly fall and immediately touched her pale face. She looked ill. Rose shrieked and pushed him violently away from her._

"_Better?" She cried, "You're a monster!" Rose struggled to release his grip and cried out in fear and anger. Steve dropped her arm and stared at her opened mouthed. She looked so repulsed by him, so frightened but at the same time there was a look of pity. _

Back in his room, the image of Rose's upset face drifted in front of his eyes as her gasp echoed in his ears. She had calmed down enough eventually but from then on their relationship had changed. She hadn't liked to hunt with him, in fact, she had rarely hunted at all, preferring to have a corpse dragged back for her. However Steve had often defended her unorthodox way of consuming blood even though he hadn't necessarily understood. For him, drinking blood was a sport but Rose saw it as unnatural and wrong though unavoidable.

Steve realised he loved her anyway, even with her eccentric behaviour. He thought about the pre-destined future Mr Tiny had laid out for him, ready and waiting to be fulfilled and wondered if there was any way to incorporate Rose into it. The powerful man had warned him the girl had the power to destroy his dreams and all his hard work but surely that was only if she was angry with him. Surely if she loved him she would appreciate that he had his own future to follow. Perhaps she could stand there with him, by his side as the Vampaneze Lord. Steve smirked to no one in particular as he thought about Rose. She was not going to be easily persuaded but he liked a challenge.


	19. Grief

Swears and curses to terrible to describe rang out throughout the quiet green valley in the countryside causing birds to take flight from the tree tops in fright. They eventually settled in another group of trees just out of reach and glared at the source of the disruption peevishly. The foul temper belonged to a small figure in the middle of a meadow who was currently stamping her foot and kicking out at a small black bundle. Rose glowered at the obstinate tent pole which was sticking out of the rucksack at an awkward determined angle. The tent's canvas had fitted neatly in the bottom of the bag with little fuss; she had simply folded it up and popped it in but the poles refused to conform. The first one had been all right, she had slotted the two ends together and folded it in half without a problem but since that second one had snapped accidently, Rose felt certain the others were being stubborn on purpose as if to avenge the broken pole. She threw the rucksack on the floor again and stamped on it feverishly.

"Fit!" she shrieked wringing her hands in frustration but the bag simply lay there. If bags had expressions, this one was smirking. Rose kicked as far as she could across the field to teach it a lesson and then begrudgingly set out after it.

The tent was the only thing she had managed to grab before the angry mob had headed in her direction. Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups. Not that the freaks were stupid, just angry and upset and Rose didn't blame them. Feelings of guilt and shame gathered in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the night she had drank one of their kind's blood the night the Vampaneze had attacked. She had wanted to go back and apologise somehow but the Cirque felt closed off from her now. She had intended to accept Mr Tall's offer of joining their family but she had broken his only condition and thus cut herself off from anything like a family forever. Rose hastily wiped her eyes as she stumbled over the tatty rucksack, worn from several days' worth of travelling. She had no idea where she was; after leaving in such a hurry, she had run as far away as possible and now lacked the energy to even flit. Beneath her, her legs buckled and she collapsed in a heap, sobbing and occasionally pummelling the bag in frustration.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" She bawled into the pack's damp, smelly material. Eventually time passed, carrying the pathetic bundle of Rose with it. The girl looked up through tears to see the sun trying to hide behind the hill in front of her as though it had been caught spying on a private moment. Rose wished night would hurry up and take over; it was easier to travel in the dark. There were less people around and therefore less temptation to indulge in a midnight snack. Finally Rose admitted defeat and acknowledged that the stars wouldn't come out early just by hoping they would so she heaved herself onto her feet, slung the bag onto her back, carefully ignoring the inflexible poles, and set off at a fast pace across the valley. Now and then, like a trail of breadcrumbs, bits of broken pole landed on the grass noiselessly, tracing her path.

A few hours later, Rose had recovered her strength by hitching a lift off a passing truck. She hadn't bothered asking, that would have only stirred up more trouble, instead she'd lightly landed in the back and wriggled under the sack with covered his goods. The warm, purring engine and the gentle rocking sent her to sleep quite quickly. She had woken up to slurred shouts and insults and had lifted the sheet to discover it was finally dark. The van had been parked around the back of a road side pub under a streetlamp and by its faint, flickering glow, Rose could just make out a bunch of drunks staggering around throwing punches bathed in orange light. None noticed her climb carefully out of the truck, shoulder her backpack and sidle off. The pub was far from friendly and inviting but to Rose it looked like the perfect place to sit for a while in the warm and gather her thoughts. Pausing for a moment to observe the building's exterior, she took note of the missing letters on the pub's sign so that it now spelt out a rather rude word. Chuckling, Rose stepped around the resident drunk who was busy being sick into a flowerpot that Rose doubted had ever had a flower in it a stepped inside.

Unlike those clichéd movies, so often set in the Wild West, no one turned to face Rose as she wandered through the doors. No one looked up from their drink or bothered to acknowledge her which the girl was thankful for. None of the pub's occupants looked at her closely enough to notice her red eyes and slightly purple skin and the few that did blamed it on the bad light or the fact that they had drunk too much. Rose shuffled easily through the crowd searching for a corner to lurk in. Unfortunately each booth she approached seemed to be host to either a card game or a drinking game so she was forced to move towards the bar. The lights were stronger here so Rose shielded her face with her hair. From behind her fringe, kohl rimmed eyes glowered at anyone who dared risk a glance at her, even the bartender was nervous as he approached her. The man was large and scarred and had a nose that looked as though it had suffered several fractures but even he gripped the baseball bat with a nail in it kept under the bar for special occasions as he asked the stranger what she'd like to drink.

"Just some salted peanuts," came the reply. The bartender hurried off gratefully in search of the snack but a gruff voice called him back.

"Nah, no mate, get her what I've got. She looks like she could need it!" Rose turned to face a gaunt looking man hunched over a nearly empty pint glass. He didn't raise his eyes from his drink as he talked but smiled dreamily.

"No thank you," said Rose primly choosing not to add that she wasn't old enough in case the barman decided to try his luck at throwing her out. The man to her right shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he slurred, downing his drink. After studying the bottom of the dirty glass for several minutes as if he was trying to locate something he'd lost in there, he slammed it down on the counter and demanded another. The bartender was more at home dealing with regulars like the weedy man beside Rose and thought nothing of denying him another drink.

"I think you've had enough sir," he said sternly. Rose expected the man to shrug again and slope off into a corner somewhere but to her surprise he pushed back his stool, leant across the bar and grabbed the barman's apron in sudden fury.

"Enough? Enough! It's never enough! He's still dead isn't he? And I'm still here! He shouldn't be... he can't be... so young..." the man released his grip as he broke down in floods of tears and allowed himself to be pushed back across the bar by the burly man. The bartender patted the sobbing man's shoulder somewhat awkwardly and spoke to him in a soft voice which didn't suit him.

"I'm sorry Mr Shan. I think you should go home now. Should I call you a cab?"

Mr Shan shook his head and buried himself in his arms, his shoulders still shaking. Rose took pity on the weak, balding man and offered him a peanut. Sympathy wasn't her strong point. Sniffing several times, the man eventually raised his watery eyes and met Rose's red ones.

"Are you alright mister?" asked Rose uneasily. The man wiped his nose on his sleeve and sighed heavily; tears leaked from his eyes and dropped off his chin.

"Shan. Mr Shan." He said, "And no. No, I'm not."

"Mr Shan?" Rose repeated slowly as her memory struggled to connect the evidence in front of her.

"He's gone," said the man simply. The smell emanating off the man was overpowering. There was no denying he was drunk though Rose reasoned that sometimes too much to drink, isn't enough.

"The anshwers not at the bottom of the glassh, my girl. You were right to deny a pint. My boy's gone an nuthinks gonna bring him back!" The man dissolved into tears again giving Rose time to digest this new information.

"Your son?" she ventured.

"S'right," wailed Mr Shan, "my boy, my little boy. He had a future... gone... s'all gone now..." Rose reached over and laid a hand on the man's arm. He barely noticed her act of sympathy, too lost in his thoughts. Rose felt her throat tighten as she witnessed the man's sadness.

"What was his name?" she whispered though she already knew it.

"Darren. My Darren," sobbed Mr Shan. He sat up in an effort to regain some dignity but lost it again as he saw Rose's hand resting on his sleeve.

"About your own age, he was. So young...too young..." He patted Rose's cold hand with his own before turning gently away from her to stare back into his empty glass.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal but love leaves a memory no can steal, right?" he quoted. For the first time since she'd met him, Rose saw the ghost of a smile appear on his lips.

"Right," she agreed, "and time heals all wounds." But the man beside her shook his head heavily, still smiling.

"No," he whispered, "no it doesn't. Time just gives you...time. How you spend that time is up to you. Some folks'll use it to give them more space to heal. Me? I'll use it to grieve. I'll not let myself heal."

"Why?" said Rose, shocked.

"Why should I get to heal when he's dead? Why should I or anyone else move on when he can't?" At this, Mr Shan began to raise his shaky voice and glare around the dark room accusingly. Few caught his eye, others looked sympathetic.

"I don't think Darren would have wanted to see you like this sir. Do you think he would have wanted to see you drinking yourself to death? You talk about the value of life but -"

"Value? There's no value anymore," interrupted Mr Shan, "You're born with a return ticket to wherever you came from though no one knows its expiry date. Life's just wasting time before you die." He closed his eyes and rambled bitterly for a few moments before trailing off and choking back another sob. Rose stared.

"If you could see him... speak to him even. What would you say?"

"Tell him I loved him o'course, what else? Maybe tell him I was proud... sho proud of him. He was sho good." Rose listened to the man's sad slurs and made up her mind. She needed to help Mr Shan somehow. He needed to heal and it was clear he wasn't about to let time do it.

"He loved you too sir," whispered Rose but the man had his eyes closed and was snoring gently into his chest.


	20. Break Up

'_Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder, where it's so white as snow...' _

Evra adjusted his headphones and turned up the volume, letting the Red Hot Chili Peppers drown out the argument from outside. He plucked at his guitar strings mindlessly and hummed along to the tune currently filling his head but the music couldn't block out the thoughts which swam round his mind. The Cirque had been still for a week now; it's inhabitants were too shocked to react. The funeral had taken place almost immediately but since then no one was really in the mood for entertaining. Mr Tall just sat in his tent for days on end presumably re-thinking the Cirque du Freak's neutral stance whilst everyone else went about their normal daytime activities with a little less heart. Evra had sunk back into his music and Darren was busy with his new girlfriend.

Evra rolled his eyes and stretched out on his bed as he thought of his best friend's new love. They had been spending hardly any time together since Darren had started seeing Rebecca and when they did see each other, Evra felt like a spy on one of their dates. Lifting one side of his headphones off his ear, he could hear the muffled argument next door. Still at it. He replaced the headphone and tried to ignore the two bickering love birds outside. Darren had assured Evra that _all_ couples have fights sometimes but Evra found it difficult to believe that _all_ couples argued this often. The stupid thing was, thought Evra, that the fights were usually over trivial things like "Why didn't you answer your phone when I called?" or "You're always late!" If it were him, Evra knew that he'd never argue about little things like that because they'd mean nothing compared to getting to spend time with someone you love. Of course, Darren knew better since he was the one in the relationship so Evra knew better than to dispute the point. _All_ couples argued everyday. Period.

Suddenly the headphones were yanked from his head with such a force Evra was sure he'd lost an ear. Darren's angry red face came into view and waved a hand in front of Evra's eyes.

"Hello? Anyone there?" He snapped sarcastically. Evra rubbed his ear and sat up groaning.

"This damn music is too loud!" Yelled Darren as he stormed across the room and switched it off. Evra knew better than to protest. He sat and waited until the boy had calmed down before replying.

"Everything all right mate?" Darren didn't even spare him a glance. Instead, the boy hopped into his coffin and shut the lid. Evra sighed and replaced his headphones, taking care to turn up the volume. A few moments later, there was a flurry of movement from the corner of Evra's line of vision and Darren was by Evra's side again. Evra looked up innocently and widened his eyes in a silent question. He watched his friend turn off his music again before taking off his headphones once more.

"I _said _is everything all_- _"

"S'fine," snapped Darren, clearly not fine. Evra caught his wrist before his friends could walk away. He pulled him gently around so he could see his face and then sighed in exasperation when he saw his expression. Darren's eyes were teeming with water which he blinked back furiously. His foul mood was replaced with soft emotions as his eyes locked with his friend's concerned ones.

"All right, its _not_ fine," he sighed shakily and sat down next to Evra heavily. Evra made a sympathetic noise, feeling it was somewhat called for before patting the vampire awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Whats up?" he asked as he sat back and folded his arms behind his head. When Darren finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. Evra supposed his throat was red raw from shouting.

"I give up," he whispered, "I can't do it anymore. It's all too much to cope with." Evra nodded in empathy.

"I mean, first I die, then I wake up as a vampire... I have to get used to me first. I can't deal with her as well." He hid his face in his hands. Evra leaned forward, ready to let his friend confide in him.

"Is it the tail?" he whispered, unsure if he'd crossed a boundary. He sat back hurriedly as Darren shot up.

"No! Nothing like that! I love her tail, I love her... but, it's all too much."

"Too much?" A soft voice drifted in from the doorway. Rebecca stood illuminated in the evening's glow like a sad angel. Her cheeks were wet and she stared at Darren then Evra through bloodshot eyes. Evra mentally took a step backwards and tried to make himself invisible. It didn't work. Darren said nothing.

"Too _much_?" Repeated Rebecca taking a step forward. She balled a damp tissue into her fist before flinging it across the room in a silent rage. Evra tried again to make himself as small as possible to avoid her fury but Darren made no attempt to hide as the girl strode towards him. She stopped just inches away from his face, breathing heavily, her expression daring him to say something; anything.

"I'm sorry," he said pathetically.

"You're sorry?" spat Rebecca reeling, "_Sorry_?" Darren nodded.

"So... what? You're giving up on us? Why?"

"I - it's hard to explain. Um. I think I need to spend more time figuring out who I am first. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" snapped Rebecca. A sudden and loud sob escaped her and she clamped a hand over her mouth, looking shocked, to prevent another. Above her hand, her eyes watered. Darren felt a sudden twinge of guilt tighten around his heart.

"Becca, please," he said staring at the floor. The girl removed her fingers from her trembling lips and watched him carefully.

"Please don't do this," she whispered half begging, half hoping.

"Sorry," said the boy, still observing his feet. Rebecca's hand shot back to her mouth but it was too late. Wails erupted from her mouth as tears escaped her eyes and sped down her face. Embarrassed and hurt, she fled from the tent. Darren shut his eyes as he heard her cries of anguish disappear across the field. He had no doubt she would spend the next few hours alone in her room crying until her friends found her and comforted her. He looked up and caught Evra's gaze. The snake boy regarded him carefully wondering if he should say something or just leave his friend alone for a while. He settled for a half shrug.

"What else could I say?" asked Darren mournfully.

"I don't know," replied Evra truthfully, "best leave her for a while though." Darren agreed halfheartedly before sloping off to his coffin. This time the lid closed softly. Evra replaced his headphones and for once Darren was relieved the music drowned out any other sounds.

Meanwhile, in her tent, Rebecca sank to the floor in torment. Her heat physically ached as did her throat from weeping. At first she stifled her sobs, not wanting to be heard but after a while the pain became almost unbearable and she cried aloud. Darren had broken up with her. She had loved him and thought that he had loved her. The girl hugged her knees and buried her head in her arms feeling the tears drop off the end of her nose and splash on the carpeted floor. She was _too much_ for him, too _much_? Why? What had she done? What had she done wrong? She had never had a real boyfriend before but it had felt right being with Darren. Overwrought emotion overflowed once more as she recalled blissful memories they had shared. She'd never be able to be with him in that way again. To think, they had wasted so much time arguing! Rebecca despised herself for the bitter moments she had started though at the moment she hated Darren more for ending them.

Softly, she placed her head on the floor and let the rest of her body follow it, finding a comfortable position. She was too exhausted and upset to move. Eventually, her sorrow let her find sleep and she drifted into an uneasy slumber, occasionally hiccuping or murmuring.

At her window, a face watched her. The figure's features slid in and out of sight as the branches of an overhanging willow tree outside broke the moonlight. Frosted breath rested on the pane of glass and for a brief moment, a beam of moonlight caught the figure's eye, radiating a spark of red. The figure ducked and crept alongside the caravan, freezing when it thought it heard a noise. Finally it reached the door where it rested a gloved hand on the handle and turned it, letting itself into the silent room.


	21. An intruder

What looked like a dark shadow across the floor turned out to be a sleeping Rebecca. The figure stepped over her carefully and crouched low next to her to get a better look at her face. Sleep had erased all painful memories from the girl's mind and her expression was a mask of perfect peace. Lying on her side, her shoulders rose and fell in time with her breathing. A gloved hand swept a fallen lock of hair from the sleeping girl's face causing Rebecca's eyelids to flutter. Silence gripped the room as the snoring ceased and the figure held its breath.

"Whassat?" grumbled Rebecca turning over. Attempting to open her eyes and rouse herself from sleep, she propped herself up on an elbow and peered around the room. Reluctantly, the darkness and shadows revealed their secrets as Rebecca's eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. Her gaze drifted over the normal furniture: a bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, before resting on a suspiciously dense shadow. She stared at it for several minutes before letting sleep take her back. The carpet was and soft and the girl's head fell gratefully against it.

_Crash!_

Rebecca started at the sudden noise and sat up straight staring at the doorway leading to the kitchen. She could hear nothing but silence but it was the sort of silence filled with the sound of someone trying very hard not to make any noise. Eventually it seemed as though the doorway wilted under her gaze and there was a second crash. This time, Rebecca recognised the noise of saucepans being knocked to the floor. She scrambled to her feet somewhat uncertainly and staggered into the kitchen.

The figure blinked in the sudden light and froze on the spot. Rebecca's hand hovered over the light switch and, very slowly, rose to her open mouth.

"Oh," she gasped as she took in the mess around her. The intruder had obviously tried to sneak out the back, instead finding themselves in the utility room and now pots and pans littered the kitchen as evidence of their attempted escape. Rebecca's eyes left the mess and met those of an old friend. Rose ventured an apologetic grin.

"Oh. Hey Becca. Um," She bent a picked up a wok, replacing it on it's hook above the stove, "Sorry, did I wake you?" Rebecca seemed to shake and nod her head at the same time whilst opening and closing her mouth. At last she managed:

"Rose?" Rose smiled broadly and offered an awkward wave. Rebecca continued to stare at her friend again before rushing over and enveloping her in a tight hug. Rose blinked in surprise and patted the girl on the back, waiting patiently for her to let go.

"Where have you been? What happened? We were so worried? I thought you'd gone with them! Why didn't you contact us?" Her words came out in a breathless rush before Rebecca finally ceased, watching Rose's expressions with a mixture of concern and anger.

"I, I didn't think I could, should come back," she said. Her sentence was met with a sharp intake of breath.

"You, you what? Why on earth...?" Rose hesitated. Had Rebecca not heard about what she'd done? If not, should she risk telling her and making another enemy? The look of concern was wearing thin on Rebecca's face and Rose relented.

"Didn't you hear what I did? I killed someone Rebecca. I killed a completely innocent freak!" To her surprise, the monkey-girl did not back away. Instead she reached out and held Rose's hand.

"You didn't kill him," she said.

"But I did! You don't- "

"Yes I do," cut in the girl firmly, "There were witnesses. People saw that Vampaneze boy kill him." Rose sighed.

"But I was the one who drank his blood. I promised Mr Tall and Craps- Crepsley, that I wouldn't!"

"You can't help what you are Rose, you couldn't have prevented yourself," came the sad reply, "but I know _who_ you are Rose, and you're a good person."

"How do you know?" said a sulky Rose in disbelief.

"Because you feel guilty."

The two girls picked their way through the kitchen and perched on the sofa in the living room; both were deep in thought. Finally, Rebecca spoke.

"Darren and I have split up." Rose decided to take a more tactful approach, so rather than point out that she hadn't even known the two were in a relationship, she placed an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Sorry," she said.

"Everyone says that," mumbled Rebecca sitting up. She smiled weakly and dabbed at her eyes.

"You're upset," stated Rose glancing sideways at the girl slouched beside her, "Anything I can do?"

"Can you turn back time?" muttered Rebecca, "Sorry," she added. Rose frowned.

"For what? Listen, do you want me to say something? I can be very persuasive..." Rebecca paled as she considered this.

"Yes. Yes, I'm positive you are but I have to say no. Thanks anyway..." Rose pitied the girl who looked so defeated and sad. And she hated the boy for making someone as caring as Rebecca feel that way.

"He didn't deserve you anyway," she said lightly. Rebecca looked up at her in surprise but then smiled gratefully.

"Anyway I bet Darren's crying his eyes out as we speak, realizing what a stupid mistake he made!" Rebecca looked as though she wanted to laugh but it looked as though the mention of the boy's name had upset her again. Rose sighed and stood up, taking in the room around her. It was girly and pink with bright coloured photos placed carefully around the room, many of them showing Darren and Evra. Rebecca followed her friend's gaze and as she locked eyes with Darren's photograph, her lip began to tremble and hot tears sprang to her eyes again.

"Ohh R-Rose!" She wailed, " I b-bet he isn't! I b-bet he's j-just laughing-ing ab-about it w-with Evra!" The rest of her sentence was incomprehensible as she broke down sobbing. Rose watched her, unsure what to say. Nothing she could say would make her feel any better anyway. She decided the best thing she could do for her friend was to let her cry.

"Get some rest," she suggested, moving toward the door. She paused as her hand touched the handle to glance back. Rebecca was folded up on the sofa, weeping into her pillow. Rose left as silently as she had entered muttering curses on Darren under her breath.


	22. A need for closure

_The mass of dark trees obscured the clearing behind it though a few lights were visible in the misty light that's available just before dawn breaks. A pair of black sneakers crushed dead autumn leaves into the dirt which covered the wood's floor, their bright colours hidden by the gloom. Shadows moved and became distorted as they danced in and out of focus at the edge of the boy's vision. His line of sight was directed at the flickering glow of a gas lamp almost invisible through the swaying branches which bent in the cold breeze. It had not rained for several weeks now and the earth was dry and thirsty. Twigs snapped and shrivelled leaves curled as they were trodden on underfoot. The boy paused, kicking aside a dead magpie as he detected movement a little way ahead. A door slammed in the near distance and voices approached._

"Well you shouldn't have bothered," snapped Darren, closing his door carefully behind his so as to not wake a sleeping Evra. The girl looked at him disdainfully and snorted.

"You are such an idiot sometimes Darren – no, wait, make that _all_ the time!" She skipped the last few steps and landed with a dull thump in the dry earth. Darren followed her, shortening the distance between them until it was only a few inches. He bent his head close to hers as he spoke.

"Rose, I appreciate you're her friend but- "

"So are you!"

"_But_, you can't understand this. I've no idea how to be a Vampire – be myself – right now. How am I supposed to be a boyfriend too? I think I just need to take on one thing at a time, what with all this Vampaneze war stuff as well."

"What? You don't think I understand? Man! Darren, you _are_ an idiot! We're in the exact same situation except while _one of us_ has a nice home and friends, the _other one_ is out in the middle of nowhere trying to survive with no shelter and little food!" She looked at Darren incredulously and raised her hands in exasperation. Darren shuffled his feet a little, looking awkward.

"Um, I thought Mr Tall offered you a place here?" he mused but Rose just smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, well, that was before I drained one of his acts of blood wasn't it," she turned away from Darren so he couldn't see her face and noticed a flicker of movement amongst the trees.

"It wasn't your fault," he mumbled, distracting her.

"We've covered that," Rose snapped, glossing over it. She didn't want to talk about it, "what are you going to do about Rebecca?"

_The boy sank back behind a tree, unsure if the girl had spotted him. He had been eager to hear what they were talking about and had moved too close. It had been foolish of him. Steve knew he had to bide his time and wait until Rose was alone before talking o her but the sight of Darren distracted him. He still felt angry about the other night when the boy had refused his friendship in favour of the freaks. If Rose would only walk away, he could kill him now with no one watching and fulfil part of the prophecy tonight!_

"What about her? I thought I'd made it clear -"

"You can't just _leave_ it! Darren, you do that too much. Rebecca needs closure. If you leave things hanging like this, well... they'll never heal."

"Like my dad right?" said Darren testily. He fought the urge to roll his eyes as Rose gathered herself again.

"Yes, like your dad," she hissed, "I don't see why -"

"Because I'm dead!"

"But even a letter... we could hide it - your room! They'd discover it one day and... Why not?" Her sentence was fragmented as ideas rushed from her mind to her mouth, eager to express themselves. Darren's look of scepticism acted as a stopper and she finished with a suppressed shout of anger. Darren shushed her before continuing, fearful she'd wake someone up.

"It wouldn't help them Rose. A letter won't bring me back and that's what they want, isn't it? To have their boy back? Just let them forget about me."

"You have no idea. You can't just forget about someone! You need closure and then you can move on. If you would just..." Rose turned away and hid her face in her hands.

"It wouldn't help," said Darren simply. Rose threw her head back and wailed.

"Don't you care that your dad will probably sit in that disgusting pub every night for the rest of his life!" She turned to face Darren again, her eyes were glowing crimson and dark purple patches were starting to appear under her eyes.

"Of course I do," said Darren angrily. He vividly remembered the description of his father, a broken man, sitting alone nursing a stale beer in a damp pub away from his wife and young daughter. Rose had been very clear.

"Then do something. Stop ignoring things." Rose looked up at the Vampire through her heavy fringe and sighed. Darren sniffed and shoved his hands in his pockets, refusing to answer.

_She'd shouted at him. What had she said? Something about Darren's father? Darren looked sulky in the half light however as Rose had her back to the forest, Steve couldn't make out her expression. The few times she'd turned towards him, she had been upset. Anger swelled in Steve as he thought of Darren upsetting her._

"Well?" asked Rose quietly, tired of the silence. Darren raked his fingers through his floppy hair and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was looking over her shoulder.

"I'm tired Rose. I think I'll go to bed," he turned on his heel and approached the tent.

"No!" Cried Rose in frustration. Exhausted, disappointed and annoyed, she let her emotions take over. Launching herself into a leap from a standing start, she lunged at Darren's back and wrestled him onto the floor. Writhing and thrashing in both fear and anger, the boy glanced up through half-closed lids into her wild eyes.

"Stop it! Stop running away!" She clamped his arms to the floor, gripping his wrists and peered into his face.

"Get off!" growled Darren but the girl refused to budge. He thrust his leg out in an attempt to shake her off but Rose held on tighter.

"No, no, no," she snarled, "you can't keep running away from everything!" Darren ceased wriggling and looked into her eyes_._

"Isn't that what you did?" Rose stiffened and relaxed her grip slightly. Darren used the opportunity to slip out from her grasp.

"Didn't you run away Rose? I mean, how did you get here? What's your story, hmm? You never told us, did you?"

"No," said Rose quietly. Her heart, if it had been beating at all, would have stopped.

"No. No, you never did. I wonder why?" Darren's words stung but Rose couldn't block them out. Her mind had gone blank.

"So what was it? What was it you ran away from, I mean?" He crouched low again, his gaze not leaving Rose's cold one. She knelt in the dirt and stared back, feeling vulnerable and empty. All the anger she had experience only a moment ago seemed to have drained out of her and sunk into the earth.

"Well?" prompted Darren, his face level with hers. Suddenly, Rose's blank exterior broke and she felt her emotions bubble to the surface. Her eyes retreated back to a pale pink colour and her lips parted in a small gasp as tears swelled in her eyes.

"Darren... don't... please..."

"You can't ignore these things," mocked Darren. The girl pushed his hand away and stood up. She walked a little way away from him and began to sob against the side of a nearby caravan. Now a little uncomfortable and thoroughly confused, Darren kept his distance as he called out to her.

"Why are you... what's wrong?" he asked but he was met by a wall of silence filled with only the sound of quiet sobbing. Darren moved closer and rested a hesitant hand on Rose's shaking shoulder.

"Rose?"

"Got a habit of making girls cry, haven't you," Rose sniffed. Darren ventured a smile.

"Recently, yeah," he agreed. Rose turned to face him properly.

"I think my reason for running away is better than yours," she half smiled through a few more tears. "No family, no friends, turned into _this,_" she indicated her slender physique with a swish of her hand, "by someone I loved because I was afraid I'd lose him. Then I lost him anyway," she laughed bitterly, "So now I'm stuck, aren't I." Darren said nothing, he only frowned.

"I ran away because they were disgusting – the Vampaneze I mean – horrible and ghastly and he was the worst of them all!"

"He?"

"Ste- the one who changed me," replied Rose. She didn't feel comfortable revealing her creators name with Darren just yet.

"And you lost him?" continued Darren who was eager to make sense of her story.

"To them, yes. He changed, he wasn't the boy I knew. He turned into a – a monster," Rose sniffed and wiped her eyes, "We had a huge argument and... and it was so awful!" Darren lent towards the girl and placed another hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"I was scared so I ran away, okay?"

"Okay, okay" said Darren soothingly. He opened his arms and Rose fell into them gratefully. She was exhausted. It had been a long day of travelling and she hadn't rested or fed for over 24 hours. Darren's warm chest rose and fell in time with his breathing and his arms wrapped over her shoulders in the protective manner that Steve's used to. Rose felt herself begin to cry again at the thought of Steve.

_Steve watched Darren and Rose embrace each other in the faint glow of the rising sun and growled. He clenched his fists as he saw the boy envelop the girl with his arms and rock her softly as she hid her face in his chest. The sight was too much and Steve could feel the anger and hatred bubble in the pit of his stomach and rise to the surface. The thick tree branch he had been steadying himself on snapped clean in half as he tightened his fists. The two a little way in front of his looked up, searching for the source of the noise like two startled deer. _

"What was that?" gasped Rose, pulling herself away from the hug and gazing into the forest's dark depths. Darren released her and took several steps forward.

"I'm not sure, wait here," he began to lurch confidently toward the gloomy woodland. Rose frantically called him back, certain something was amiss.

"Darren, don't. Please come back!" The boy ignored her calls and so Rose jogged after him. The edge of the forest seemed to be the border between the new morning which was sifting through the clouds and the darkness of the night before. The foliage appeared to retain the night in its dead leaves and broken twigs. Darren's figure almost disappeared into it but Rose kept pace and drew up alongside him. His face was pale from the little light that reached it.

"What's in there that could possibly hurt us?" he said confidently, flexing his fingers. His nails began to grow in anticipation. The duo paused, their ears straining for any sounds. Rose half expected a figure to step out of the woods with the reply 'Me.' Fortunately, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, no such figure emerged. Rose turned her face upward to grin at Darren.

"Me," came a silken reply from somewhere to her right. Rose's grin faded immediately as she recognised the voice's owner. _Oh no_, she thought.


	23. His new destiny

**Right. This is _possibly _the final chapter. I say possibly because I'm waiting for your approval... should the story end here?**

**DC**

He'd almost decided not to step out from his hiding place in the dark bush and flit away instead however the simple movement of Darren's hand, which closed around Rose's, triggered an emotional reaction deep within him. Steve squared his shoulders and walked out from the shadows into a single beam of moonlight streaming through the trees. A branch, half in the way, cast a long shadow down one side of his face. The side Darren and Rose could see was sneering.

"Interrupt something did I?" he mocked. His frustration rose as he noticed Darren hastily step sideways in front of the girl. Rose simply looked at him imploringly but said nothing. Steve shifted his weight from foot to foot as though ready to pounce.

"What do you want, Steve?" asked Darren, feigning bravery. Steve rolled his eyes and removed his hands from his pockets.

"Three guesses," he snarled taking a step forward. Rose also took a step toward him, knocking Darren's shoulder out the way carelessly.

"Leave," she ordered but her request was ignored. Darren turned his head to her fearfully, his eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Go," he whispered hoarsely, "Get out of here. Get Crepsley."

"Crapsely can wait," said Rose. Steve sniggered.

"Now now, Rosie," he said with a grimace, "do what your boyfriend says." Darren, shocked that Steve knew Rose's name, hadn't heard the rest of the sentence that followed.

"How do you -?" he started but Rose interrupted him.

"Don't be stupid Steve," she laughed, "Darren and me?" Enlightenment suddenly dawned on her as Steve's face became a mask of pain at the idea.

"Darren and me," she repeated thoughtfully. Darren turned to face her, shock obviously overrunning the senses which alerted him to the threat.

"How do you -?" he began again but Rose threw her arms around his waist and hid behind him.

"Darren I'm scared," she whispered into his back. His shoulder blades tensed as courage overcame his previous bemusement as though the feel of Rose's lips between his shoulders flicked a switch.

"Steve get out of here," he commanded as though the boy was nothing but an impudent child. Rose groaned inwardly as Steve narrowed his eyes and grinned mischievously.

"Well look at this," he growled, "my two best friends... Ganged up on me have you? Together?"

"Together?" said Darren in confusion. His mind raced as he tried to think how Steve and Rose might know each other.

"Together," confirmed Rose, moving her arms up until they rested on the boy's shoulders. Steve roared and crouched low sending birds into the air in fright.

"Then I'll fight you both. Kill you both," he added. Darren pushed Rose out of danger with one hand and lifted his chin defiantly in Steve's direction.

"Let her go," he said. Steve seemed to consider his words but Rose quickly leapt forward and kissed Darren lightly on the cheek for luck. Steve gritted his teeth as his nails shot out from his finger tips.

"No."

"But why...?" Darren cried before he paused mid-sentence with a finger raised in the air in exclamation.

"_He_ turned you!" He finished, turning to Rose, "He turned you into a Vampaneze!"

"You didn't tell him?" said Steve raising his eyebrows. When Rose refused to comment, he continued, enjoying their silence immensely.

"Oh yes, I changed her," he smiled, "turned her into something better. Though you never really said thank you, Rose," he added. Rose opened her mouth to reply but Darren interrupted.

"_Thank_ you? Why would she say _thank_ you? Look at her – she's a monster!"

"Cheers," muttered Rose but no one heard her. Steve and Darren circled each other as Steve let out a small snarl.

"She's not a monster," he scowled.

"No, _you_ are," growled Darren crouching low, ready to leap. Steve was quicker. He launched into the air and was already halfway across the clearing before Darren noticed he was no longer standing in front of him. A sharp pain seared across Darren's chest as Steve's pointed nails left a trail of blood. Three deep scratches shone in the moonlight through Darren's torn shirt. He hissed in pain, spat onto his palm and dragged the medicinal saliva across the wounds, healing them instantly. Then suddenly, another sharp pain burned across his arm. Steve had left an open wound there two. Ignoring it, Darren spun to face the boy who was standing dangerously close to Rose.

"I want you back," Darren heard Steve tell Rose. The girl crossed her arms and refused to look at him.

"Get away from her!" Growled Darren. He sprung into the air, hands outstretched, ready to sink his nails into the boy. And suddenly, Steve wasn't there. Rose leapt out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by the sprawling Darren.

"He's back over there," she cried in frustration. A voice behind Darren laughed to hear the irritation in Rose's voice.

"Clumsy!" Steve sang. Darren picked himself up and snarled. The boy was taunting him, making him look like a fool in front of Rose whom he was only trying to protect. It was most unlike Steve to play games like this. He usually preferred an instant kill, either for revenge or a meal.

"What're you playing at?" he asked in Steve's general direction. Steve was flitting on the spot, eager to fight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve paused in his relentless movement to watch Darren's thoughtful expression, "I'm about to _destroy_ you!" He spoke slowly and clearly as though explaining this to a child. He grinned at Rose over Darren's shoulder.

"No, no you're not. If you really wanted to kill me you'd have done it by now. Is this your idea of offering me another chance? You fancy being my friend or something?" Darren's sarcasm did not escape Steve's notice and though the two were mortal enemies now, the insult still stung. Steve flit up to Darren and brought his snarling features inches from him, his teeth bared.

"'Course not," he growled, "There's no way..." His anger froze on his facial expression as Rose's voice travelled over to them.

"Steve?" The boy hastily straightened up, looking past Darren as though he'd forgotten all about him and met the girl's gaze. She stepped forward hesitantly and offered the beginnings of a smile.

"Please don't hurt him," she asked. Steve's brow furrowed.

"But he upset you," he said, turning his fiery gaze back to Darren who seemed to be trying not to wilt under it, "He made you cry. I saw." Rose's forehead crinkled under her thick fringe as she wiped her eyes. Steve realised she was thinking back to her earlier conversation. Suddenly the girl's cheeks flooded with a feverous blush and he guessed she must have remembered.

"Oh... that. No, Darren didn't upset me – well, he did – but he didn't mean to."

"No?"

"No. He was going to leave Rebecca," Rose turned to face Darren who had frozen and was trying to fit his head around the surreal situation, "you were just going to ignore everything Darren and... you can't... you need closure..." Rose's words drifted off into a mumble as she felt the blush creep back in. She looked so alone and almost embarrassed in her small patch of moonlight, both boys wanted to comfort her. Both stepped forward before turning to look at each other with murderous expressions.

"Don't touch her!"

"Stay back!" They said in unison. Rose glanced up in surprise.

"It's okay," she addressed both of them, "I don't think he'll hurt me Darren. And Steve... Steve, why are you here?" Steve shrugged as prickles of annoyance ran along his spine as he watched Darren move over to Rose and stand beside her. He guessed he should just tell her the truth.

"To kill me," guessed Darren. Steve shook his head, surprising the other two.

"Not yet," he said, "figured I'd do that somewhere dramatic... you know, with witnesses." Rose fought the urge to roll her eyes while Darren shoved his hand in his pocket to stop it flying to his throat.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said to Rose directly, "without an entourage."

"Nope, not gonna happen," said Darren quickly. Rose's expression suggested her decision was in turmoil. Her bottom lip had turned white where she was biting down on it hard. Steve found himself staring at it and almost missed her reply.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." she began, looking at Daren who nodded vigorously in agreement. Everything about her, her pose, her expression, suggested there was a silent "but..." hanging in the air. Steve grabbed his opportunity to manipulate her indecision.

"Please Rose? Oh come on, I _know_ you still care about me, I still care about you. Just listen to me." Darren gritted his teeth, a retort already forming in his mind. He opened his mouth to reply but Rose's voice came out instead.

"Oh you've changed your mind then?" The girl's voice was mainly sarcastic but there was a hint of hope between her words. Steve hesitated.

"Ye-es" he whistled. Both Rose and Darren narrowed their eyes in disbelief at his tone. Steve almost looked sheepish.

"So... you've decided not to follow Mr Tiny?"

"Well... no, not exact- "

"You've moved out of the Vampaneze's headquarters?"

"Nope, um, I'm still- "

"You're giving up on that so called destiny of yours then?"

"No, I- " began Steve. Rose gave up.

"So what exactly _has_ changed?" she cried. Steve looked from her to Darren and back again before mumbling something under his breath. Darren had to strain his ears to hear the boy's answer but even then he couldn't decipher it. Rose, on the other hand, had sighed and laughed to hear his reply.

"Really?" she cried as she ran forward and sank into his embrace. She tilted her head back to look into his dark eyes to search for the truth.

"Yeah, but you're not part of it..." said Steve. Rose's smile remained fixed to her face though the face around it hardened. She waited for the boy to continue.

"You're _all_ of it." Wrapping his arms around the girl and burying his face in her hair, Steve's gaze rose to meet Darren's. Both enemies seemed to reach a silent agreement that tonight wasn't the night for a war. A wave of temporary peace swept over the Cirque as Rose kissed Steve passionately, ignoring the rest of the world for a few blissful moments.


	24. Others

**Sorry it's taken so long but here's chapter 24! Wow... 24 **

**Please review - I love reading what you think will happen next or whatever haaha**

**DC**

The otherwise silent room was filled with the sound of soft steady breathing. Outside, the faint sounds of crickets and the hoots of owls tried in vain to enter the room through the crack between the bottom of the door and the rough wooden floor but a couch had been pressed firmly up against it. Steve knew his attempt at protection was feeble and when Rose woke up he knew she would only laugh at it but here in the dead of night the sight of the upturned sofa wedged against the door and the lamp barricading the window made him feel better. Steve lay in the bed beside Rose, afraid to touch her in case she woke up. She looked radiant in the darkness. A patch of moonlight streaming through a gap in the hurriedly drawn curtains danced on her cheek, flickering on and off like a light as a branch outside blocked its light occasionally as it was blown in the wind. The weather had worsened as soon as Rose had led Steve into an empty caravan and a month's worth of rain had suddenly decided to target the Cirque du Freak in a few hours. Outside, heavy droplets beat the ground like tiny vengeful bullets sent by some god to wreak havoc on the earth. The trees and plants however welcomed the long awaited water and spread their leaves to catch every last drop. Steve heard the tall trunks creak and groan as the wind ravaged their natural beauty.

Rose's hand suddenly closed around his own and he felt it tighten briefly before relaxing once more. Turning, he saw her eyes were still closed in sleep but it was almost as though she were trying to wake herself up. Her beautiful forehead crinkled and her lips parted, framing an incomprehensible word. As quickly as she had stirred, Rose swiftly sank back into peace, a smile lingered for a moment before relaxing. Steve remained focused on her, deep in thought. He'd told her he had a new destiny, one involving her, and she'd believed him. He had assumed that she would have taken more persuading than that but apparently she had missed him just as much as he had missed her. Steve sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes as he thought about the sleeping girl. She looked so innocent but the moment she woke up, she would make his life complicated again.

Steve wanted Rose back but he knew deep down they wanted different things. He wanted to become fully Vampaneze, to destroy the Vampires and finally to become a Vampaneze lord and rule over a kingdom. Rose wanted to be normal again although he knew she would never admit it. As if stirred by his thoughts, Rose called out again in her sleep and turned over, muttering something into her pillow. Steve couldn't resist grinning at the girl. Mr Tiny had firmly told him that Rose was not part of his destiny and could never rule beside him when he became a Vampaneze lord and when Steve had tried to argue, he had been silenced by the part of the prophecy which said the girl could destroy his destiny completely. Steve had drawn the line at murder, refusing flat out to kill Rose and it was only by Mr Tiny's reluctant leniency that she was still alive. Some of the older and more senior Vampaneze had proposed destroying her to protect their future. Steve had sorted them out and now Mr Tiny couldn't even locate their rotten corpses. Since then, the matter had been officially dropped. However, Steve was aware that bringing Rose back into the Vampaneze lair would endanger her.

A soft tapping at the window set his teeth on edge and he sprang into a position ready to fight the intruder but he felt foolish to find it was only a stray branch blown against the glass in the billowing winds. The bad weather outside was growing stronger. Steve imagined somewhere outside the harsh winds would be blowing the Cirque's tents inside out. This thought cheered him up a bit as he remembered how Darren was currently sharing a canvas tent with a freak. He was suddenly thankful for the four walls around him, however thin, which belonged to the empty caravan Rose had found. Apparently there were several abandoned homes dotted around the campsite as many freaks had deserted the camp after the invasion. Regret nor guilt were felt by the boy, he was simply thankful for the room and mentally congratulated himself on his timing. The inhabitants of this particular caravan had presumably left in a hurry. A bike rested against the opposite wall and the television had been left behind. There was also another room, Steve had peeked into it earlier, with a bunk bed and toys. Ignoring it, he had let Rose lead him toward the double bed which was where he sat now, gazing thoughtfully out into the dark night.

Had he tricked her? Steve liked to think he had been honest enough though perhaps his statement was a slight equivocation. He was not giving up on the destiny Mr Tiny had laid out for him but neither was he abandoning Rose to pursue it. He intended to include her in his plans though he realized she would need persuading. As the girl sighed and smiled in her sleep, Steve wondered whether it would be all that difficult to change her mind; after all, he'd got this far.

Something tapped him on the shoulder. His hand flew to where he had felt the pressure as he leapt up and spun around but there was no one there. The room remained empty and still. Silence invaded his thoughts and filled his mind, preventing him from reaching a logical explanation.

_Drip_

A splash joined another on the bed where he had been sitting. Steve craned his neck to look above him where a damp patch was slowly spreading on the grey ceiling. The hard rain was penetrating the roof.

"That'll need a patch," someone said behind him. Steve did not turn around. He recognised the tone. Mr Tiny was standing just inside the door, half belonging to the shadows, as though he had always been there. The fat man chuckled to see the hairs on the boy's neck stand on end.

"How did you find me?" asked Steve through gritted teeth. He turned slowly, his features impassive and tried to look tough. That was hard when you were naked. Feeling very self-conscious, Steve snatched his jeans off of the floor and shrugged into them, not taking his eyes off the man. A fierce, red blush rose steadily from his neck where it filled his cheeks. Hardly registering his embarrassment, Mr Tiny pursed his lips as he noticed how the boy was moving very slowly between him and the sleeping figure on the bed.

"I have ways and means..." said the man ambiguously striding across the room. Again, the boy's chest seemed to swell as he attempted to grow larger to hide the girl. The two locked eyes.

"Playtimes _over_," said Mr Tiny carefully, "time to come home." He noticed a muscle jump in the boy's chiseled jaw before he answered.

"I...I can't."

"Can't or won't?" retorted Mr Tiny quickly. Steve shrugged.

"Won't. Not right now anyway." Squaring his shoulders he allowed himself to look around the room. There was a little person regarding him carefully from the doorway.

"We cannot afford to waste time Steve. But, I think you realize that, don't you?"

Rubbing his temples, Steve nodded. He understood there wasn't much time left but he had to clear things with Rose first. Mr Tiny seemed to acknowledge she was holding him back even if he wasn't happy about it.

"But Rose -" he began. Mr Tiny cut him off with an impatient sigh.

"Yes, yes. She's safe now. Tonight. But tomorrow? I can't tell you. There are others, Steve, others who won't be so sloppy as to allow themselves to be killed quietly,"

"I only -"

"Yes I know what you did!" snapped Mr Tiny. Resuming his cool composure, he continued, "Others who have worked hard to defeat the Vampires and will not let _anything_ stand in their way. Anything that did, might...oh I don't know, find themselves drained of blood or something per say." Steve scowled.

"Are you threatening -?"

"Not _me_, son," sighed Mr Tiny in exasperation, "_others_..."

"Others..." Steve mused. Mr Tiny glanced quickly between Steve and Rose. She had still not woken up yet. He decided to try again.

"Steve, your destiny will not _wait_ for you. Events that have been prophesied are happening now!"

"I know!" groaned Steve. He closed his eyes and exhaled, "I know. I'll sort it out, I just need a bit more time. Time to..." Opening his eyes, Steve found he was addressing an empty room. The round silhouette that had been Mr Tiny had vanished, as had the Little Person that had accompanied him. The darkness that had filled the room only moments before seemed to shrink back into the corners, joining the shadows which lurked there as daylight began to break through the grey clouds. It was still raining heavily and the sound of the wind outside echoed around him. Steve sat heavily on the bed and pressed his palm to his forehead as though trying to push unwanted thoughts from his mind.

Others were out there. Other Vampaneze wanted Rose out of the way. On top of that, events were moving on without him; his destiny was leaving him behind! He looked back over his shoulder at the sleeping girl beside him who, completely innocently, was holding him back. The one tie to the old life he no longer wanted.

"Fuck" Steve breathed as he realized the enormity of his situation. He had thought he'd managed to trick Rose somehow, luring her back to him but all the time he'd trapped himself! Now he had to decide all over again. Should he leave Rose or kiss goodbye to his destiny?

"Steve?" sighed Rose, rolling over to smile at him. Her eyes, heavy with sleep, traced his tired features.

"Didn't you get much sleep?" she asked, frowning. Steve rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to look cheerful.

"Not really. You were distracting me," he stretched his mouth into a smile as Rose's frown deepened with an unasked question. "Did you know you snore?"

"Do not!" cried Rose in outrage. She propped herself up onto her elbows and reached over to grab a pillow to throw at the boy. With a laugh, Steve reached over and covered her hand with his as she touched the pillow. Rose's grip immediately lessoned.

"Do I really?" she said quietly, half joking. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yeah but I love you anyway," he laughed. Rose didn't join in, instead her questioning eyes searched his expression. Eventually, her lips framed a wide smile.

"You still...you still love me?" Her voice was almost a whisper almost like she hardly dared ask. Steve did not answer straight away, causing Rose's smile to fade slightly. Unbeknown to Rose, he was deep in thought, struggling to find the right words to describe his true feelings for her. Finally he gave up, realizing he'd probably never be able to express how much he loved her and settled for leaning over and touching his lips against hers.

"I never stopped loving you," he said affectionately, pulling away at last. He noticed rose still had her eyes closed, smiling in bliss.

"Well, I'll always love you," she grinned meeting his gaze. A flicker of hesitation crossed Steve's red eyes as an answer failed in his throat. He settled for putting his arms around her and resting his chin on her head as Rose drifted back into a peaceful sleep, unaware that her soul-mate was currently struggling with the decision to leave her forever.


	25. The meeting

**Apologies for the delay - It _is_ Christmas you know ^.^ But seriously - I have some spare time on my hands now so I'm planning to exercise my writing skills and will update soon :) But pleease do tell if you like where the story's heading.**

**Who's your fav character?**

**What d'ya thinks gonna happen next?**

**Didya like this chapter? WHY NOT? haha jk**

**Anyway - please enjoy this one, i LOVE writing the bad guys cos' they're funny :) and a lil bit frightening ¬_¬**

**DC**

To describe the underground cavern as dark would be like calling the devil himself simply naughty. A statement so underestimated that it is almost incorrect. Darkness is simply the absence of light but the stone cave deep underground was filled with the opposite of it. A rich, thick darkness which emanated from the core of the earth, filling and infecting the hearts and minds of those which stirred in it contributing toward their evil natures. Like the empty heart of the world itself, it sat miles under the earth, hollow and waiting to be filled. However, no longer abandoned, the grotto seemed to be alive with pulsating creatures which swarmed and lurked in its' corners. The creature's eyes had adapted to fit their bleak conditions and so hundreds of red pairs of eyes watched from the crevices and the nooks in the rocks as a small party of men took their seats at a long table. The table was in fact a handy rock formation but the lords sat around it as though it was a conference desk. A simple wave of a rather chubby hand silenced the Vampaneze and called the meeting to order.

"Zander Dreadweep?" A man nodded.

"Lucard Griefstrike?" Another raised a feeble wrist in greeting.

"Celeste Delarose, my sweet?" There was a giggle from along the table followed by a disapproving murmur.

"Oh come now," smiled Mr Tiny toothily, "Xavier Rosario- Morgenstern?"

"Oh leave it Tiny," growled Xavier, "we're not a bunch of school kids, there's no need for a role call. We all know who's here... and who's not." The last part of his sentence was drowned out in a roar of agreement from the hundreds, possibly thousands of Vampaneze who were lined around the cavern. Unfamiliar with the term solidarity, the Vampaneze were uneasy with the idea of being in cramped conditions surrounded by creatures who were just as deceitful and violent as they were. The Vampaneze rarely hunted in groups and lived in covens for convenience rather than contentment however the subject of the ongoing war had temporarily united the race. Mr Tiny was aware of this and knew that the long, uncomfortable silences had increased the tensions which had currently snapped. He let the Vampaneze continue their noise-making until he was satisfied they were now comfortable in their surroundings before reaching over and quite easily detaching the nearest Vampaneze's head from its' body. It was only a commoner of course, not a lord. That would have been undiplomatic. Mr Tiny stood up and waited as a wave of shocked silence spread through the cave like wildfire. Finally he felt it was quiet enough to be heard.

"My...friends," he said at last, giving up the hunt for a better word, "I regret this violence amongst our ranks, directed at each other for this should be a time of cohesion where we fight together, as one, against our common enemy – the Vampires!" A second roar erupted, this time of anger and frustration as the Vampires were mentioned.

"You promised us a leader!" Shouted Xavier over the din, "But where is he now?" The wall of sound subsided as the question was reintroduced. Mr Tiny sighed as though the answer was a simple one, too obvious to worth mentioning. He shook his head.

"The Vampaneze Lord is preparing the battle. He knows his task and will fulfil his destiny when the time is right. But do you, Xavier, know your purpose?"

"To fight!" Cried the old Vampaneze and the assembly cheered once more.

"To win!" shouted Lucard punching the air with his fist.

"To rule!" chimed another. The room was once again filled with solid sound as the army pledged their allegiance. Vampaneze swung from the stalactites hollering and whooping.

"And you shall! You shall!" Called Mr Tiny and his voice was somehow carried over the wall of noise and heard by each individual who then shouted even louder. Mr Tiny was in his element. He did not usually become so heavily involved in the game, preferring instead to set up the pieces, roll the dice and see where it fell but now and again he felt it was good fun to immerse yourself in the trivialities of the sport. Right now each team was set up for battle and raring to go however his glee faded slightly as he thought of his secret weapon currently miles away above ground risking the entire outcome of the game on a girl. The girl, that rogue pawn, had the potential to destroy everything that had already been set up. As though reading his thoughts the older Vampaneze, who seemed to be acting as his race's spokesperson, interrupted them.

"And what of the temptress?" he asked in a lowered voice. Mr Tiny sat on his rock heavily, deflated. He looked up into the mixture of worried and irritated purple faces and grimaced.

"Ah, ze girl," smiled Celeste seductively. Raising a finger to her full red lips she bit the tip of it thoughtfully, "iz it love?"

"Hah!" scoffed several members from around the table.

"He is not in love, he only thinks he is," admitted Mr Tiny tearing his eyes away from Celeste at last. His gaze met Xavier's hardened red eyes.

"He will not fail you," promised Mr Tiny, "he wants power, he wants to destroy the Vampires, as much as you do. He will not let anything stand in his way, trust me."

"Ah, meester Tiny, I zink you underestimate ze power of love, no? Ze boy vill do anyzing for her and von't vant to fight for us?"

"I _told_ you we should have done away with her whilst she was within our reach!" cried one of the Vampaneze.

"Actually I believe it was Malachi who voiced the idea wasn't it? And where is he now?"

"Stake in his heart," muttered one disapprovingly.

"Head chopped off," said someone else.

"Buried at a crossroad," called a small voice from somewhere near the back.

"At least, bits of him are..." finished Xavier glaring at Mr Tiny accusingly. Mr Tiny shrugged.

"The Vampaneze Lord knows what must be done. If he felt another's opinion threatened the greater good then... well, he dealt with it. For your sakes obviously." He added diplomatically.

"Obviously," grumbled Xavier. Xavier, like many of the Vampaneze, didn't like being led by anyone, least of all a sixteen year old half Vampaneze, however Mr Tiny had assured them they needed Steve to win the war. Reluctantly, Steve was hailed as the Vampaneze Lord though in the beginning many had objected. Mr Tiny had realised that since so many were prepared to argue, he could not simply kill all the objectors – he had to compromise, something he hated doing. And so, it was now that Mr Tiny, surrounded by the hoardes of overexcited Vampaneze, and Steve, sitting in bed with Rose, found themselves worrying that they were running out of time. Mr Tiny and Steve had agreed that by the next hunter's moon he would become a full Vampaneze.

"The girl is irrelevant," summarised Mr Tiny, knowing full well that this was not the same as saying: leave her alone, although he hadn't ordered them to get rid of her either. He knew several Vampaneze would welcome this loophole and left it at that. If Steve truly cared for this girl, Mr Tiny reasoned, then he could protect her.

"Meester Tiny?" sang a sweet voice from further down the table.

"Yes, my darling?" called Mr Tiny, wondering why he hadn't sat down that end.

"Ven do you zink ve vill fight ze enemy?"

"But, my angel, we are already at war," said Mr Tiny slowly and clearly in case the beautiful woman had misunderstood.

"Yes meester Tiny, I am aware of zat, zank you. However I vondered vether ve vould commence in ze battle? So far ze war has been underground vith little blood lost. Vill there be bloodshed?" She licked her lips in anticipation causing many of the Vampaneze to actually blush.

"My dear," smiled Mr Tiny lustfully, "I assure you, there will be blood." The woman's breast heaved at the thought of the slaughter. Xavier's eyes widened at the sight.

"And I pity the halfwits that try to fight you, my love," said Mr Tiny smoothly. Celeste raised a dainty hand to her parted lips and giggled behind it.

"Gentlemen?" called a soft voice from the other end of the table. Lillith waited patiently for the consideration of the Vampaneze, quite used to the attention often devoted to her sister, before asking what their next move was to be.

"We simply wait. Wait and plan. The Vampires will strike first, you'll see, and we will be prepared to bite back when they do." Lillith nodded along with the thousands of others which filled the enormous cavern. The Vampaneze listened with rapt attention.

"And the Vampaneze Lord?"

"He will be ready," swore Mr Tiny.

**Dun Dun DUUUHN!**

**WILL Steve be ready? Read on to find out**


	26. The morning after the night before

**This chapter is to basically summarize how the other members of the Cirque feel about everything and what other opinions are floating around out there.**

**Personally, I like Mr Tall the most heehe and Crapsley the least (this may be obvious) but i've tried not to write too ooc but there may be ooc moments of course since it _is_ a fanfic...**

Mr Tall drummed his long fingers on the important looking desk and looked over a pair of invisible spectacles to regard the party in front of him. The group were divided not only by space but by their own opinions of the situation. Outside the rain continued to pound the canvas tent, washing out the bright colours of the Cirque until everything was a variation of the colour grey. However since a thick autumnal fog had decided to settle amongst the campsite, the grey caravans were no more than threatening shapes looming towards each other.

Mr Tall had started out that morning leaning against the entrance enjoying the blank canvas that was his view. He had breathed in the crisp morning air deeply, exhaling with a contented sigh. His day set out before him, he was looking forward to spending it as he pleased at a steady pace when the sudden sight of five indistinct figures emerging from the mists in front of him put an end to any ideas of relaxation he might have been harboring. He hadn't even bothered to ask why the group had frog marched into his tent, instead he dragged his long legs back around his desk and sat heavily in the chair where he waited silently and patiently for someone to complain. As expected, Mr Crepsley had begun.

"It's the Vampaneze," he had explained, "they've penetrated our forces! They're within our fortress!"

Mr Tall raised his wiry eyebrows and peered over the top of his steepled fingers at Mr Crepsley.. He appeared to be listening to something outside but only the sound of the rain could be heard through the silence. He flicked a skeptical gaze from the tents entrance back to the old Vampire but remained silent.

"Well, the Vampaneze Lord is here," rallied Mr Crepsley who was undoubtedly frustrated and a little surprised at Mr Tall's lack of concern, "but surely that means the rest are on their way?"

"He's here to see Rose!" chimed in Rebecca, "he's not here on business."

"On business?" cried Mr Crepsley incredulously, "he's the _Vampaneze Lord_! That's not something you take time off from!" Rebecca crossed her arms defiantly and looked sideways at Evra who suddenly felt as though he was expected to contribute to the odd conversation.

"Well...nothing's happened yet," he grimaced, earning an approving nod from Rebecca and a glare from Mr Crepsley.

"So we should hang around and wait should we?" said Rhamus Twobellies suddenly rounding on Evra, "should we sitting and wait twiddling our thumbs for another attack? We should be ready! Armed!"

"I agree! We need to defend ourselves!"

"But he's here to see Rose! That's all! He'll be gone soon!" The group glared at each other before turning as one, demanding a solution from their ringmaster.

"I see," said Mr Tall at last. So the party had come to him to find an answer. Should they fight or not? Should they retaliate? The giant sighed and rubbed his temples. Rebecca, standing in one corner with her arms crossed across her chest had dragged Evra into the tent to defend Rose's right to love, whomever it was she chose. The fact that it was the Vampaneze who kidnapped her seemed not to matter if he made Rose happy. Evra begrudgingly agreed although Mr Tall doubted if it was by his own free will. Evra's expression clearly told everyone he'd rather be anywhere but in the tent. Rhamus filled the tent on behalf the freaks. Only interested in their safety, he was in favour of attacking a bloodthirsty race if it meant protecting his family. Mr Crepsley stood shoulder to shoulder with Rhamus and Darren, teeth bared, pushing for the Cirque's support. Beside him, Darren seemed uncertain. Mr Tall asked him.

"And you Darren? What do you think we should do?"

"He attacked Darren last night! Of course he wants to fight!" Cut tin Mr Crepsley. Mr Tall bade him be quiet with an impatient frown.

"Fight... - ?" said Darren looking at Mr Crepsley. Only the slightest tremor at the end of his voice suggested it was a question but Mr Tall picked up on it.

"You fought him last night did you not? Since neither of you are dead, who won?" Darren looked uncomfortable. Mr Crepsley groaned and Mr Tall guessed that the old Vampire had already spoken to the boy about the situation at length.

"There was no winner or loser," said Darren robotically, "it was a..."

"Stalemate," murmured his mentor.

"...stalemate," finished Darren.

"I see," Mr Tall repeated. Rebecca tutted and placed her hands on her hips.

"Hah! A stalemate?" she said sarcastically, "Interrupt me if I'm mistaken, but from what Mr Crepsley has said so far, it would have taken a huge force to prevent the Vampaneze Lord from killing Darren. Especially if the fight had taken place undisturbed." No-one interrupted her.

"So what force prevented him then?" breathed Evra, caught up in the moment. Darren glared at him.

"What?" said the snake-boy defensively.

"Love," sighed Rebecca romantically. She clasped her hands to her heart and smiled dreamily. Rhamus Twobellies burst out laughing whilst Mr Crepsley scoffed at the idea. Darren merely looked uncomfortable.

"Enough," snapped Mr Crepsley impatiently, "we need to know the Cirque's position Hibernius. This has taken place on your soil!"

"Neutral," replied Mr Tall, "as it always has been."

"Neutral," repeated Darren, "in other words, you half agree with the Vampaneze do you? They killed a member of our family!"

"They nearly got Rebecca," reminded Evra softly. Rebecca took his hand in hers.

"I was just bait," she said consolingly, "they needed me."

"That wouldn't have stopped them," said Darren darkly. Rebecca said nothing. Mr Crepsley, tired of wasting time, slammed his fists down on the desk in front of Mr Tall.

" Hibernius you must choose a side!"

"I will not endanger any- "

"They're already endangered! If the Vampaneze Lord is here, the rest won't be far behind and when they do attack, where will you be standing?" Mr Tall looked imploringly at Rhamus who seemed to represent all those absent.

"Behind you," said Rhamus to Mr Crepsley. Mr Crepsley exhaled loudly and smiled.

"Good. At last some clarity!" Mr Tall looked reproachful.

"My aim has always been to protect the Cirque," he reasoned.

"And yet the enemy's leader is in the middle of campsite," muttered Evra a little too loudly. He reddened as everyone turned to look at him. Several moments seemed to drag on as the group contemplated this and then, as one body, they all turned and fled the tent. Mr Tall hurdled his desk and, against all probability, reached the door first.

"Which way? Which way?" he boomed. The crowd turned to Darren.

"I - we fought over there," he pointed to the woodland before shrugging, "and then they left... I'm not sure where they went."

"You, you boy," said Rhamus to Evra, "you were the one who said you saw them. Where did they go?" With an encouraging prod from Rebecca, Evra told them once again how he'd watched Rose lead a boy towards the empty caravan nearest his tent.

"To the tent!" Cried Mr Crepsley, leading the party. The settled fog had thinned to a fine mist and the shapes and even some colours of their surroundings were just visible. Anyone watching from above would have seen the odd group weaving their way in and out of the maze of tents, occasionally reaching a dead end and doubling back before they slowed.

"That one," said Evra confidently. He and Rebecca were pushed back as Mr Crepsley advanced. The peeling blue painted door was firmly closed and the netted curtains had been drawn across the window. Mr Tall placed an oversized hand on Mr Crepsley's shoulder as he advanced towards the door.

"I should like to go first," he said gently. Frowning, the Vampire did not step aside and so the giant simply went around him as carefully as possible. Darren heard the creak of the door as it opened; it was unlocked. Mr Tall paused.

"What is it?" said Rhamus quietly, wishing he'd brought his meat cleaver. Mr Crepsley advanced.

"There is something blocking the door," said Mr Tall giving it an experimental shove with his bony shoulder. A voice from behind him ordered him to stand aside. Obediently, Mr Tall stepped back and watched as Mr Crepsley took several steps back and a flying leap forward. The door caved in as whatever was behind it was pushed out the way. There was a thump as the couch fell backwards.

"Odd," remarked Mr Tall at the sight of it. The couch had been acing as a feeble protection against intruders - an absurd idea created by someone as strong as Steve Leonard. Privately, Mr Tall guessed the boy had been feeling vulnerable but he did not raise the idea with the others. He looked around the sad little room. A few belongings of former residents still lurked in damp corners and a stale smell lingered in the air but mostly the room felt empty and abandoned.

"Gone," said Mr Crepsley. He had gone straight out the back to check out the adjacent rooms, " left a few hours ago I reckon. The beds are cold." A sharp blast of icy air reached them as a draught made its way from the open window out the back to the door like a tunnel of wind. Standing in its path, Darren's brown hair was blown across his eyes as he looked up to meet his mentor's gaze.

"Rose too?" he asked though the answer was obvious.

"Rose too," Mr Crepsley confirmed. The party stood for a while, unsure how to react. Rebecca and Evra had wandered in and were poking around the small caravan and Rhamus had run off to tell the others. Soon only Mr Tall, Darren and Mr Crepsley stood looking at each other.

"What do we do now?" asked Darren at a loss. MR Crepsley pursed his lips.

"I'm sure he'll show up," he said to Mr Tall.

"Oh most definitely. It would be most unlike him not to. In fact, I think I'll go put the kettle on in my tent." Darren watched the man leave, his mouth open in a circle.

"He won't come back...?"

"Who? Oh, Steve? No. He won't come back and I doubt Rose will either."

"Then...who?"

"Steve's master..." Mr Crepsley grimaced at the thought of Mr Tiny. Darren sniggered at the idea of anyone trying to control his old best friend.

"Steve doesn't have... you'd have to be - well, you'd have to be worse than Steve to control someone like him!" Mr Crepsley just nodded.

"Worst than Steve?" Darren shuddered at the idea of someone as terrible as that. Then his ears caught up with his brain, "And you've just let Mr Tall go off on his own to _put the kettle on_ for him?"


	27. Verified whispers

**Okay... to clarify - I have NOT read the books (yet) I decided to write this after watching and loving the FILM. Anyone who did not like the film will probably not like this fanfic. ****It is not true to the books. **

**DC**

It was in fact a few days later when Mr Tiny arrived. A thunder clap outside alerted Mr Tall to his presence. He rolled his eyes. The insufferable man, a demon by nature, was such a drama queen. He reshuffled the paperwork which had mounted in front of him and tucked it into a tray on the side of his desk. The freaks rarely appreciated the amount of paperwork which needed attending to. Between performances, it really built up. A little person, one of Mr Tiny's creations, ran into his tent and stood just inside the door.

"Good evening," boomed Mr Tall who believed it always payed to be courteous. The little person, tented in a filthy grey robe, nodded once at him before resuming its' statue like appearance. Mr Tall marveled at it. The little creatures seemed to act as though they were Mr Tiny's bodyguards but at three foot high, he reasoned that there was very little damage it could do. Besides, the rumor was that Mr Tiny was demon from the underworld. A creature like him could almost certainly protect himself.

"Evening Hibernious." The voice detached itself from it's owner and filled the tent. Mr Tall stood up to greet his guest who had appeared in the doorway with another little creature.

"Mr Tiny," smiled Mr Tall, encouraging formality, "do come in." The man strode forward and unhooked his cape from under his double chin with chubby fingers. Dumping it over the nearest little person's head, he summoned a chair and lounged on it. Mr Tall tried not to stare at the servant who was struggling under the cape like a child with a sheet over it's head, pretending to be a ghost, and offered Mr Tiny a cup of tea. He refused.

"Strictly business tonight Hibernious," he said, "not a lot of time to spend dilly dallying I'm afraid." His host nodded graciously and got up to make himself one anyway. He got out two mugs. Just in case.

"Well Hibernious, I hope you are well ex-cetera, ex-cetera...I come about the ongoing war." His back turned, Mr Tall bowed his head in recognition but said nothing. Mr Tiny continued unperturbed.

"Of course you and I are neutral when it comes to our stance," he paused but when the giant refused to comment, he carried on, "but it seems to me that without our resources, this war may go on for centuries much like the last one." Mr Tall remained silent, scooping sugar into his cup.

"But it is not our war," sighed Mr Tall. He knew the argument was feeble.

"But it will become our problem. I am merely endeavoring to indicate that if we do not grab events by the collar they will have us by the throat." Mr Tiny, suddenly curious, leaned back in his chair and craned his neck to see what he was doing.

"Oh, well, since you've gone to the trouble, I'll have a mocha latte," he added, smirking. Mr Tall nodded and added a spoonful of chocolate syrup into one of the mugs. He turned and handed it to him, placing the other on his desk.

"That was quick," he remarked, taking a sip. He smiled.

"I anticipated you might like one," he said. And then, "What resources?"

"Well, our assets of course. You have the Cirque and the Freaks and I have...well, I have my assets." He smiled secretly but Mr Tall refused to entertain his smugness.

"And so you have chosen your side," he said. It was not a question.

"That is what I come about. I know that your enterprise houses a vampire and so it is understandable that you have leaned towards the race, however..." He let the question linger in the air. Mr Tall sighed.

"As you have said, the Cirque's stance has always been neutral," he watched as Mr Tiny nodded, "however..." Mr Tiny frowned.

"But?"

"But I have never entertained the idea that I run the Cirque Mr Tiny. The Cirque exists as a family and so I poised the question to our inhabitants."

"But you are the head of the family!" cried the man using his metaphor, "You make the decisions!"

"Alas," interrupted Mr Tall, "I may be the head of the household, but the Freaks make up the neck and they can turn the head any way they want. I act in their best interests Mr Tiny and they have made their decision."

"What was their conclusion?" asked Mr Tiny but since he was frowning, Mr Tall reasoned he had probably already guessed.

"They know that the Vampaneze detest their kind. They know that the Vampaneze attacked their home and killed a member of their family and they _know_, Mr Tiny, that Larten Crepsley, a _Vampire_, has lived amongst them and performed alongside them for many years and has become their friend. They will fight to defend themselves against the attacker Mr Tiny and the Vampaneze have already attacked."

"I see," said the large man. Mr Tall suddenly wondered whether he should have offered him a wider chair. He seemed to be spilling over the sides of it. A flurry of movement by the door attracted his attention. The little people Mr Tiny had brought with him were exiting the tent. Mr Tall's stern gaze flicked back to the demon in front of his. He smiled back.

"Where are they going?" he said.

"Just making sure the perimeter is clear. I have some information for you," he said innocently. The little people returned and shrugged.

"Good," said Mr Tiny leaning forward eagerly. He lowered his voice. Behind him, one of the little people pocketed a scrap of paper.

Outside Mr Crepsley crouched low and pressed a gnarled ear to the canvas. Despite being over two hundred years old, his sense of hearing was still keen and, he thought proudly, seemed to have only increased with age. He could hear the slow, ragged breaths of the servants inside and the fast paced heartbeat of Mr Tiny, preparing to betray what he knew. Two fast heartbeats? Mr Crepsley counted the sounds. There were inexplicably five heartbeats although there were four people in the room. He brushed the thought aside as he remembered the servants. Made from bits of rotten corpses, who knew how many hearts - or livers, or lungs or spleens - they possessed. The servants had been easy to bribe. Mr Crepsley knew that Mr Tiny had created the creatures from the corpses of old enemies and had then wiped their memories. Each little person existed only to serve his master and therefore had no need for money. Mr Crepsley had handed them their identities. Scribbled on scraps of old paper, he had handed them their names and as a result the creatures were indebted to him. He listened secure in the knowledge he would not be caught. Inside Mr Tall's patience wore thin.

"What is it Mr Tiny?" he said wearily. The man grinned, displaying his horrible teeth.

"Well, since you have chosen the side of the Vampires, sir, I feel it is only fair to inform you of their part in the battle. Far from the innocent creatures which you portray them to be, the Vampires must produce an heir as it were to fight in the main battle. The Vampaneze have theirs. It will be a fair fight. Each side is equal."

"That is a Vampaneze idea," perceived Mr Tall, "It is a Vampaneze belief that a Lord of some kind will lead them in a great battle. As far as I am aware the Vampires have no natural rulers."

"Neither have _natural_ rulers Hibernious. The leader is elected for the purpose of the battle. After that, they are no longer needed."

"And are...disposed of? I am aware that the Vampaneze in particular are adverse to any kind of rules. They prefer to exist in a permanent state of anarchy do they not?"

"It is debatable," admitted Mr Tiny who preferred rules and order and despised chaos, "it will be up to the Vampaneze to decide what to do with their leader. I, of course, do not get involved with such trivial matters." Mr Tall strongly suspected he was lying but did not say so.

"And I assume the leader they have chosen knows nothing of this," he asked. Mr Tiny pretended not to hear his.

"I see," he said, "nevertheless, I do not know anything concerning a Vampire Lord."

"Which is why I have come," said Mr Tiny, "I have heard rumours, Hibernious, whispers and snippets of conversations. I have heard tell that the Vampire Lord resides here, Hibernious, in the Cirque!" His voice trembled and rose excitedly. Mr Tall looked skeptical.

"The only vampire we have here on record is Larten Crepsley. You are aware of this Mr Tiny."

"On record..." he mused, "yes, I know this. However, off the record, so to speak...are you aware of any other vampires in the Cirque?" He held his breath in anticipation of the man's answer. He took some time before he spoke, chewing over his words.

"One big happy family," he said softly, "the Cirque exists as a sanctuary, Mr Tiny. Our Freaks are feared and persecuted in the world outside. They come here to feel accepted, even loved and make a living and as their protector, I would never, _ever_, betray even the smallest of them. Each individual here is a member of our family and as the head of the house, as it were, I look after their best interests."

Mr Tiny sighed and cocked his head to one side. Mr Tall hated it when he looked at his like that. It was as though he was looking _through_ his, reading every thought that floated around in his mind.

"Very well," he said at last, "but I feel I should warn you that although you may not believe the Vampires have a Lord, others do. And they take the belief _very_ seriously." Waving a chubby hand as though it were a great effort, he signaled his servants who brought forth his cape. Throwing it dramatically over his shoulders and buttoning it under his chin, he winked at the ringmaster who then shuddered.

"You have chosen a side," he said, "but I have yet to finally decide. After all, I tend to side with the winners. You will know when I have made my final choice. The war will be over and my side will have won." He stood up and leant on his cane which was black wood except for a silver entwined alpha and omega sign that was propped on top.

Mr Crepsley watched from the shadows as Mr Tall showed Mr Tiny out of his tent. Standing tall on his porch, he visored his eyes against the blinding flash of light that erupted when Mr Tiny vanished alongside his two servants.

"Always likes a show," Mr Tall muttered to Mr Crepsley's surprise. He paused for a while, breathing in the crisp night air before turning back in to his home. After a while, all the lights, except one lonely flickering candle, went out. As silent as the dead, which was technically correct since Mr Crepsley was theoretically deceased, he crept out of his hiding place and hurried across the campsite. From what he had learnt, he knew it was vitally important to hide his prodigy and prepare him.


	28. Back to square one sort of

Nothing is faster than the speed of light, right? Wrong. Darkness arrived first. It has been there for aeons and still sits and waits for darkness to catch up. When the light finally arrives, it tends to take a step back but it is still there, patiently waiting, and when the light disappears, it takes over again. Rose was amongst the darkness now. Light was on its way, she was sure. The sun had released it for the day and it was free to go wherever it wanted, provided it was back by sunset of course, however the sunlight seemed to have evaded the Vampaneze's lair. Perhaps there are some places so evil, the light won't visit. Rose had heard that if you turn to face the sun, then the shadows would fall behind you but what if there was no sun. There was no light this far underground. The only dim glow came from the candles which somehow seemed to exist, against reason, with no oxygen. However, it wouldn't be practical to go around blind in such a cavern with such difficult terrain and so light was necessary. After all, logic is one thing but common sense is another. Anyone could apply logic to a situation, thought Rose, but common sense - despite its' name - was quite uncommon.

And so, in spite of all logic, the candles burned down to stubs around her whilst Rose sat crossed legged in an empty chamber. The scene was familiar and it tugged at old memories. She had sat in a similar position feeling just as lonely before. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had sat in her old room in her children's Home wondering where Steve was.

In the same position, Rose unhooked herself from the memory's grips and reminded herself that the situation was not the same. Now she knew Steve's secret, she just wished she didn't. No, she mentally shook herself, she was glad that she knew and was part of it. That was why she had become a Vampaneze. Scared of losing Steve forever, she had taken the most extreme measures to be with him. Staring around the vast empty chamber, she wondered where Steve was now. He had gone to see Mr Tiny over an hour ago.

Furnishing was not a priority in the Vampaneze's lair. Shelves, stools, tables... There was a rumor that some Vampaneze towards the top of the hierarchy had golden furniture, but if they did, it was hidden well. The room was a severe cave with ominous corners full of scuttling bugs however it was a deliberate poverty. It was just another room to gather in, to plot in and alone in it, Rose felt vulnerable.

She wiped her face and stood up. She hated being in the dark room alone. Although it was an enormous chamber it had a strange claustrophobic quality. The stale dusty smell reminded her of being in a coffin - something she was used to - but this smell prompted the memory of the first time she entered a coffin. With the smell of dead, damp earth around her, she felt trapped and alone.

Now, out of the coffin, Rose still felt trapped and was still wondering where the hell her friend was. She had let him persuade her to come back to the Vampaneze's lair under the cover of darkness and, still half asleep, had followed him blindly through the night to the underground cave. She was beginning to see a pattern emerging. Bad things happened when she followed that boy into the unknown! But it was too late to turn back now. She had left the Cirque for good, confident that after choosing Steve over Darren, she could never return. She had picked her side.

The candles around the stone room suddenly flickered as though they had been disturbed by a soft gust of wind. She raised her head to see a figure silhouetted in the doorway.

"At last," she said, feigning impatience but really Rose just felt relieved to see Steve back again. But the shadow framed in the doorway did not move.

"Steve?" said Rose uncertainly taking a step forward. Narrowing her eyes and squinting through the gloom, she suddenly felt afraid. The more she looked at the figure, the less it looked like her friend. It was built more solidly, with hunched shoulders and stocky legs. It seemed to lean towards her and then away again. Rose retreated into the shadows until her pupils were only quivering red dots in the darkness.


	29. The Gang

**The Gang and Ursus are not in the film or books... I made em up. Hope you like them anyway. I don't.**

**DC**

Darren screwed up his eyes in concentration and tried to focus on the flitting figure in front of him. Mr Crespley had roughly excused him from his game of chess with Evra and had shoved him out into the night and had propelled him toward his darkened caravan where he stood now. Bruises were just beginning to swell under his skin around his wrist and forearm where the man had dug his sharp nails into him to pull him along. Darren rubbed them reproachfully and scowled.

"Why couldn't you tell me back at _my_ tent?" he moaned. Mr Crespley had hardly said a word after ordering him to stick to the shadows on the way back to his tent. The man snapped his bony fingers impatiently.

"Because it was too risky," he said hoarsely, "your tent is canvas - anyone could have listened in. I'll know if anyone comes anywhere near here." Even as he said this the old Vampire spared quick sharp glances at the windows suspiciously. Darren cast him a skeptical look. Mr Crespley could be over-protective at times.

"Well what is this risky information then?" he asked, a tad sarcastic for Mr Crespley's taste and the man told him so. Darren didn't apologize. His arm still hurt and he wanted to know what was so important that he had to be dragged from the warmth of his tent to his mentor's cold, dark caravan.

"Don't get sharp with me lad," warned Mr Crespley, "have I ever done anything that isn't for your own good?" Darren considered this.

"You turned me into a vampire," he said at last.

"You asked to be one," retorted Mr Crespley.

"And then you threw me under a truck and broke my neck to fake my death," said Darren, listing on his fingers.

"Quick and painless,"

"And now I'm living here at the Cirque..."

"Where you've made lots of new friends!"

"True, true...but now there's something else?" He paused and waited politely for Mr Crespley to contradict him.

"Yes," replied his teacher, sending shivers of disappointment down Darren's spine. Mr Crespley rubbed his temples and sighed loudly.

"Darren," he said, "it is vitally important that you are kept safe."

"But why - ?"

"Because there are rumors boy! Rumors and prophecies that could spell danger for you!" His voice dropped several octaves to a dramatic whisper and Darren had to lean forward to catch his words. "There is a Vampaneze belief, a belief which I fear has spread and infiltrated our own kind, that a vampire lord must be chosen to fight a Vampaneze lord. The Vampaneze lord has already been picked by Mr Tiny himself."

"Well who's the lord for our kind?" said Darren quickly. His heart skipped a beat as Mr Crespley widened his eyes pointedly.

"Me?" cried the boy, "I can't be the vampire lord! I'm not even a whole vampire! I'm only half, a half-vampire!"

"I know that, I _know_ that," groaned Mr Crespley. He sucked his teeth and looked frustrated with himself. "I don't think it matters anymore. People are too...eager. They anticipate a fight and in their haste, little details are forgone. I don't think it matters if you are not a full vampire yet, they just want to win this war."

Darren blinked. The enormity of the situation struck him and left raw marks across his mind. What was he going to do? He couldn't fight the Vampaneze lord! He couldn't fight at all. He told Mr Crespley this.

"Nonsense boy," he barked, "you're not going to fight!"

"But...I don't understand!"

"Perhaps it would be simpler if you just did what you're told and didn't try to understand things," said Mr Crespley slowly, "we need to keep you hidden. Very few will think to look here at the Cirque but the few who do are dangerous. We'll need to move you."

"No! Mr Crespley you can't! I've only just arrived! I can't just leave everyone - I won't!"

"Oh you won't?" said Mr Crespley calmly, "oh, well, then I'll just protect myself and leave you here then. No sense worrying myself. I expect you'll teach yourself to fight then? Not that it'll matter. You won't stand a chance against Steve Leonard..." he watched Darren's expression flicker from sulky to shocked to scared and then freeze at horrified.

" Steve? I can't fight _Steve_! I can hardly _fight_ anyone!" Mr Crespley shrugged.

"Well, what are you going to do then?" he asked, evidently uncaring. Darren relented.

"I need to go into hiding," he grumbled. Mr Crespley folded his arms and turned his back.

"Off you go then," he said. Darren rolled his eyes.

"I'm _sorry_, sir," he said, "I just don't want to have to leave all my friends again. I've only just got used to it here!" Mr Crespley's unbeating heart softened slightly at the sight of the boy's deflated expression.

"It won't be for long," he promised, "and it'll only be until the vampires replace you. Once you've disappeared, a hole will open in the prophecy that I imagine they'll fill pretty quickly."

"But whoever they chose will be defeated by Steve anyway!" cried Darren. Mr Crespley grunted.

"That's none of our concern. The battle will take place as expected and with Steve on their side, the Vampaneze will win. We have already prepared ourselves for that. What we must focus on is what we will do after."

"Wait - so, I wasn't really going to fight - " began Darren.

"I've explained boy, it was my intention to take you into hiding and - "

"No. That's not what I mean. I mean, whether it was me or someone else - you don't expect us to win. Steve's opposition would be some sort of sacrifice? A martyr for the vampire's cause?"

"It is not ideal," admitted Mr Crespley, "But there is no one strong enough willing to take him on!" Darren frowned. Steve was clearly feared in the vampiric community. His reputation as a meticulous fighter had evidently spread.

"We will take you away from here tomorrow night," said Mr Crespley, calling Darren out of his thoughts, "under the cover of darkness. Tonight you can return to your tent." Darren nodded sleepily, realizing suddenly that his head felt heavy and his eyelids were drooping.

"I'll come and fetch you tomorrow," said Mr Crespley, "be ready."

Loaf head walked crab-legged into the tent shrouded by darkness, his grumbling filling the space formally occupied by silence. Outside the afternoon's bustle continued as normal. He took his position in the circle beside a solitary candle that was placed on a three legged stool. He wasn't surprised by the lack of light. The Gang's preferred the darkness, it hid their deformities. He coughed.

"Well?" said a voice in the darkness.

"He'll be moved tonight. I don't know where to, I don't think Mr Crespley knows either. For now he is back in his tent."

"Then we don't have long. But we will need time."

"Well, I have been informed that Mr Crespley is currently in liaison with Mr Tall," said Loaf head gruffly into the candlelight, "that should lend you a few hours."

A voice hummed. It was a long, drawn out, thoughtful hum that informed everyone the voice thought it was possible that it _might_ be long enough. Whilst the unseen group seemed to be silently discussing the thought, Loaf head took time to admire the set up. The arrangement meant that the one standing inside the circle, by the flickering candle, could not see anyone outside the ring of light as the Gang stood just outside the glow. It occurred to him now that the arrangement also meant that none of the figures outside the ring could see each other either. Were they that disgusted by each other?

The Gang were a sub-culture within the Cirque du Freak. Loaf head didn't often associate with them but they had one thing in common. They had all belonged to another Freak Show before joining the Cirque, run by a money-mad man named Ursus. The Freak Show had exploited them and had treated the horribly resulting in a scarred, self-conscious group of men and women who banded together and hid themselves from any limelight. They called themselves disgusting but they were more formally known as the Gang.

"It can be done," said a voice at last. There was a general murmur of agreement.

"When?" said another. There was a gap and suddenly Loaf head felt as though he was expected to add something. Unseen eyes regarded him critically. The dwarf scratched his elongated forehead and grunted.

"In the next hour or so...I dunno." This seemed to please the group. They all spoke at once.

"We'll have to do it quickly."

"There's a car waiting."

"Someone inform the demon we'll be with him soon!"

"And tell him to have Ursus ready!" A roar of agreement and triumph shook the tent but went unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the Cirque. Loaf head looked about him and shuddered but he was thankful and relieved he couldn't see their malformed faces.


	30. Rose's truth

**Don't like don't read. This is a FANFIC created by me - a fan of the FILM. Yes, I know you hardcore Darren Shan readers out there might not approve that this fanfic is on the film and to an extent I agree with you. I really want to read the books but I haven't had time.**

**So, like the FILM, this fic condenses all the action into a couple of chapters. This fic is NOTHING LIKE THE BOOK so please don't complain. I've basically written what I thought (hoped) would happen after the closing title of the FILM.**

**FILM. ;)**

**DC**

**PS. The Vampaneze names mentioned here are made up. No other Vampaneze names were mentioned in the film so I had to make some up. All other characters ('cept Rose) belong to Darren Shan etc etc...**

"Steve?" She repeated, this time a bit louder and with a panicked edge to her voice. She knew now this Vampaneze wasn't Steve but she hoped her friend was near enough to hear her cry. The shadow advanced, blurring slightly around the edges suggesting it was getting ready to fly at her. Rose felt her nails lengthen. The Vampaneze's nails, like vampires, could lengthen and sharpen themselves to make handy weapons. She flexed her fingers in the dark, ready to strike. Her hands rose to hip height as the creature advanced. Only an amateur would raise their fists and aim for the face. A real killer knew that aiming for the throat was futile. You needed to go for the heart. Her hands twitched as she focused on the dark shape's abdomen. Everyone knew the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.

"Grargghhh," growled the creature as it moved across the floor. Rose didn't understand it but then, spontaneous violence rarely made any sense. The Vampaneze's movements confused her. The Vampaneze were effective killers and this is because they adopted a strategy which worked well. Kill hard and kill fast. This individual was moving very slowly, as if to inspire terror which was not a known Vampaneze method.

"Well? Come on then!" cried Rose. She hoped the Vampaneze was only trying to frighten her. Suddenly the thing leapt. There was a crack as Rose's head hit the stone floor and she felt her skull fracture. She felt the heavy pressure of the Vampaneze on top of her, clawing at her face and neck. _Ah_, she thought, _an amateur_. The thought gave her a burst of strength and she managed to push the creature off her before falling back again. It felt as though a magnet was pulling her head back to the floor and darkness crept around the sides of her vision in an attempt to pull her into unconsciousness. Rose felt a sudden sharp pain erupt through her side and, when her hand flew to her waist, she felt something warm and wet flowing through her shirt. The smell of blood seemed to excite the Vampaneze and it attacked again with as much fervor.

"Rose!" The last thing Rose heard as she drifted into unconsciousness was two shouts. One of anger and another of fear and suddenly the weight was lifted.

"_Foolish_! Foolish!" Raised voices stirred Rose from her slumber.

"Keep your voice _down, _you imbecile. You'll wake her." Rose tried to lift her head off the pillow, eyes still closed, but it felt as though she was stuck in a sticky tar-like substance. She lay back groggily and raised a fragile hand to her forehead. There was a bandage wrapped around it.

"And he caught him?"

"Yes. As well as several others. All innocent of course, they were just passing by and he flew at them in a rage."

"Well, we are all _innocent_ Lucard."

"Of course, of course."

Rose kept very still, not that she had much of a choice, and strained her ears to identify the speakers. They were definitely Vampaneze, two Vampaneze by the sound of it. Standing a little way away from her, their whispers only just reached her bandaged ears.

"Does Mr Tiny know of this...unfortunate incident?"

"Undoubtedly. He always seems to know."

"And has he...has he done anything about it?" There was a pause.

"No."

"And does that condone - ?"

"Mr Tiny has been very clear that he is but a spectator. Nothing he does or says is to be taken as approval or disapproval of anything the Vampaneze choose to say or do," said the second man hurriedly.

"I see," answered the first carefully.

"And yet he found us the Vampaneze lord..." mused Lucard. At this, the man's companion clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"Yeah some _lord_," he muttered, "barely seventeen and not even a full Vampaneze! How does he expect him to rule?"

"He doesn't need to _rule_ Zander, just to win. Mr Tiny assures us that the boy is prepared. We have witnessed his violence first hand, have we not? And I am told that the vampire lord is an archenemy of the boy which will only increase his rage. With that combination we cannot fail."

"And after he has won? What then? We'll have a lord! The Vampaneze were not meant to be led, we lead!" the man hissed.

"Let others deal with that," said Lucard flippantly, "and perhaps they'll be more...careful next time." At this Rose heard the tread of footsteps and suddenly a dark shadow was cast over her eyes as the Vampaneze bent low to inspect the extent of her injuries. Remaining calm, Rose kept her face impassive and her breathing regular to give the appearance of sleep.

"Mathias managed to do a lot of damage." Cold, stale breath infiltrated Rose's nostrils as the Vampaneze examined her forehead.

"Yes, but she is still alive," said a voice further away. Rose listened for a hint of regret in his voice but there was none. However there was no hint of relief either. His tone of voice had been carefully constructed to give nothing away.

Suddenly there was a rush of air and Rose's eyelids fluttered in surprise. Fortunately neither of the Vampaneze noticed. They had spun around, fixing looks of innocent surprise to their features.

"Get away from her, don't touch her," came a recognizable voice. Rose groaned and tried to sit up. There was another rush of air and then the boy was by her side, lying a cold hand across her forehead.

"Shh, lie down, lie down," he whispered but Rose was too nervous to sit back. She brushed his hand away and with a huge amount of effort, sat up.

"What happened?" she said hoarsely. Her head was on fire and stars obscured her vision. Steve studied her expression thoughtfully. At last he seemed to decide to answer.

"You were attacked," he said.

"By a rouge Vampaneze," added one of the two men quickly. Rose frowned but stopped immediately because it hurt.

"Shut up," Steve snapped. He stood up quickly and Rose was surprised to see the other two step backwards, "Get out!" Rose watched as the two bristled but did not move.

"I said out!" shouted Steve throwing a pointed finger towards the door. Grudgingly, the taller of the two nodded and walked out. The smaller preceded him hurriedly. Rose blinked.

"Who attacked me?" she asked, "Why?" Steve growled.

"A Vampaneze. A _stupid_ Vampaneze. I think some of the rebels put him up to it. The smarter ones just gave out the instructions, strictly anonymous obviously and they made sure that no one could trace them. It just looks like he was working alone; a rogue."

"But you think he wasn't," said Rose. Her head hurt and she wanted to make sure she was taking this new information in properly.

"I know he wasn't," Steve corrected, "he'd be too stupid to reach that conclusion himself. You know the type, all brawn no brain...muscles for hire."

"And you can't figure out who hired him? Ouch!" Rose rubbed her head.

"No...but I killed the suspects," said Steve but Rose hadn't heard him. The sound of blood pounding in her ears dulled any ambient noise.

"What did he _do_ to me?" she moaned. In front of her, her vision of Steve swam in and out of focus.

"You banged your head. The rest of your injuries were mainly flesh wounds. He did manage to get a knife in your side though but I got it out before it did any real damage." Rose closed her eyes and shook her head very slowly.

"Steve why? Why me? What did I do?" Rose couldn't think of anything she'd done that would have offended the race. She'd barely left her room since she'd arrived. Steve meanwhile seemed to be wrestling with his conscience. Rose threw him a withering look.

"What did you do?" she said. Steve frowned.

"Nothing,"

"Steve?"

"Nothing! I didn't do anything! I think it's the prophecy." He clenched his teeth as Rose gave him another skeptical look.

"Is this about your destiny or something?" she said. Steve took offense at her tone.

"You don't need to say it like that. Look, I didn't want to tell you but the prophecy...it doesn't...well, it kind of - "

"What Steve?" cried Rose.

"It sort of mentions... it says that an outsider, a Vampaneze, could destroy it. It tells us that a girl has the power to ruin the Vampaneze's plans." His eyes averted out of embarrassment and a small amount of fear, Steve didn't notice Rose square her shoulders. If he had, he might have gotten out of the way.

"It says...well! They think _I'm_ that girl? Hah! I couldn't care less about the Vampaneze or their silly little prophecy!"

"Well, _they_ care! They won't let anything - anyone - ruin their plans. They want a leader!" At this, Rose suddenly remembered the two Vampaneze's earlier conversation.

"Not everything is about you," Rose said furiously.

"Possibly," Steve said, "but you do have to admit that most things seem to be lately."

"Well, they don't _want_ a leader," she said uncertainly. Steve scoffed at her.

"Of course they want a leader. Mr Tiny chose me! The prophecy chose me!"

"His prophecy?" asked Rose while her stomach knotted itself.

"Yeah," said Steve defensively. He crossed his arms, "look, Rose, I know you don't believe - "

"And Darren? Is he in the prophecy?" Caught unawares, the boy didn't answer straight away. His dark eyes retreated under his brow as his forehead crinkled.

"Darren? Why would that...that _vampire_ be included? He's not a Vampaneze!" His ears reddened with anger.

"I mean what does the prophecy say about the vampire lord?" persisted Rose. She had a horrible feeling about Mr Tiny's so called prophecy.

"You think _he's_ the vampire lord? Hah! Darren? Those vampires wouldn't stand a chance!" Rose thought quickly. Adrenaline was pumping around her body as though trying to hurry it up so her brain could work faster.

"I think - no, listen Steve. You asked me to come with you to tell you the truth once remember? Because I cared about you and the Vampaneze didn't? Well, I think you were chosen because you had the least to loose. You had no family, no friends and no-one to miss you, right?"

Steve didn't look happy with the description but gave a sharp nod anyway although somewhat reluctantly.

"And you'd also just fallen out with Darren, your best friend. Quite convenient for Mr Tiny as it was over the vampires."

"Wait, you think Mr Tiny is behind this? No way! What would he have to gain?" Rose faltered.

"I don't really know...but just think about it." Steve uncrossed his arms which Rose took as a positive sign.

"Only...only the plan went wrong didn't it. And the prophecy needed to be adjusted slightly," Rose bit her lip, "there was suddenly this girl on the scene and she _did_ care what happened to the Lords. _Both_ of them. So Mr Tiny had to get - yes,_ Mr Tiny_ - " added Rose when the boy showed every sign of interrupting, " he had to get rid of anything which threatened to form a bridge between the two races. You said so yourself - a rumor went round that a girl had the power to destroy the Vampaneze's plans!"

"No," said Steve firmly, "the Vampaneze wouldn't let anyone get in the way of their plans."

"Right. So they sent in Mathias 'the hired hulk' didn't they? But I bet they didn't try too hard to kill me because they knew you'd go mental! It was just a warning."

Rose took a gulp of air as she finished. Steve, however, remained silent. His features flashed through a series of expressions: doubt, confusion, anger, disbelief. Finally it settled on blank.

"I don't know..." he admitted, "there must be an explanation. There _must_! Mr Tiny promised... small sacrifices...for the greater good..." His voice trailed off and only a few phrases fought their way to the surface. The rest were lost under waves of confusion in an uncertain sea.

"Hah!" Rose scoffed, "I know about people who talk about suffering for the common good. It's never them! He's been hiding in the background, shouting directions, giving orders but never really up front. Am I right?"

"No, no...you can't be," said Steve. He stood up quickly and half-ran towards the door.

"Where are you going?" called Rose as his back disappeared around the corner. She sighed at his lack of reply and hoped he wasn't going to cause any trouble but she valued her life too much to follow him. Besides, he probably needed to be alone for a bit, to think things through. It must be hard learning you'd thrown away your life for false promises of power and immortality. Rose bit her lip again as she remembered the last look on his face before his features had switched to a protective blank. It had been a mixture of pain and desperation.


	31. Harkat's warning

**Yes, yes I know that this is now completely OOC but remember - this fic is based on the FILM. How can these characters stay in character if the film stopped before it had finished properly? From my point of view this is very annoying. **

**So that is why I have made a huge leap and have basically written what I think should have happened after the film ended. Show me the fanfic rules where it says I can't do this? All credit goes to Mr Shan for his fab idea.**

**DC**

"Hey Evra," a voice piped up from behind him, "you seen Loaf Head around?" Evra's snake uncoiled itself from around the boy's shoulders and slithered over to the buck toothed woman. She patted it's head affectionally and shaded her eyes against the sun. Fortunately Evra's shadow fell across her he walked over.

"Nope, sorry Gertha. Not recently." Evra wiped the perspiration that had gathered on his forehead as a result of the afternoon's work with the back of his hand. He had been busy changing the straw and sawdust in the wolf man's cage as well as changing the trough. The wolf man sat in there now, sniffing his new bedding. The woman placed both hands on her hips and sighed.

"He was supposed to meet me an hour ago! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Oh I'm sure he'll turn up. You know what he's like, he probably got into a scrap and is off licking his wounds." Behind him, the wolf man growled in agreement. Everyone knew the dwarf's hotheadedness often landed him in trouble. Gertha, however, didn't seem satisfied with Evra's educated guess.

"No one else has seen him around in a while either," she complained. The wolf man shrugged.

"Well, if you do see him..." said Gertha in a small voice. Evra nodded, turned back to his bags of sawdust and picked up his broom which had been lounging against the cage getting it's breath back. He was surprised to find a small, bedraggled creature holding onto the end of it. He gave an involuntary cry of fright and disgust and gave the stick an experimental shake but the little person hung on and shot him a wounded look. It banged on the broom handle to attract enough attention before pointing a choppy finger at the distance. The wolf man growled.

"What _is_ it?" shrieked Gertha. The little person was only slightly higher than Evra's knee. Green eyes watched Evra carefully.

"It's only Harkat," sad Evra, his voice shaking slightly and his heart beat returning to normal, "I think...the little people all look the same anyway." Harkat gave the snake boy a reproachful stare, still pointing into the distance.

"Well? What do you want?" asked Evra. He gave the broom another shake. Deciding he had had enough, Harkat snatched the besom out of the boy's surprised hands and headed off through the tents with bits of twigs falling behind him. Looking over his disheveled shoulder, he saw Evra following him at a smart pace and so the little person hitched up his grey robe and hurried on through the throng.

Before long, Evra had caught up with the odd looking creature. It hadn't been hard. With legs twice as long, he could go twice as fast, something Harkat hadn't thought off. Squealing and grunting, the little person extended and raised his gnarled fists as he was hoisted into the air by the scruff of his neck. Evra held him inches away from his face.

"Give it back," he snapped. The answer was a sharp punch on the nose from a decaying fist. Harkat looked up at Evra from the ground after he had been dropped with a triumphant grin. He waited for the boy to recover before picking up the broom again, goading him with a whack on the knees and setting off. Evra let out a roar of frustration before resuming the chase. The strange little man dodged in and out of the legs, and in some cases hands, of the Cirque's inhabitants as they went about their daily chores. The chase went unnoticed by most, the rest simply watched with amusement. Everyone knew the little people were notorious tricksters even if they weren't quite sure where they came from. They looked like three foot high chubby zombies.

"Watch it!"

"Look out!"

A path of grumbles and shouts followed the two as they wound around the camp site. Evra had great difficulty in keeping the creature in his sights as it weaved and dodged so often. Finally he lost sight of it altogether. Ignoring the moans and complaints surrounding him, he straightened up, for he had been running bent double, and peered over the many heads for one grey hooded one. A long whistle from behind him made him spin around and he locked eyes with Harkat Mulds. He was leaning nonchalantly against Evra's tent, an innocent expression playing on his monstrous features. Furious, Evra stalked over to him and snatched the broom out of the little person's unresisting hands.

"What're you playing at?" he snapped. Harkat pointed into the boy's tent and stamped a tiny, bare foot. Curious, Evra peered into the gloom. There was nothing there.

"What? There's nothing there!" Harkat Mulds raised his eyes to the heavens and wrung his tiny scarred hands as if crying "exactly!" Now suspicious, Evra swept past the creature and went into his tent. He circled it a few times noticing nothing out of place. His bed was as unkempt as usual whilst Darren's was fully made. Nothing different there. He bent double to face Harkat.

"Nothing," he shrugged. Now thoroughly peeved, Harkat placed both hands on the boy's knees and pushed him firmly out the way. He inspected the tent himself and after a moment, uttered a small cry of satisfaction. Evra turned to see the creature brandishing a length of rope. The dragon boy's brow furrowed as he tried to recall where it had come from. Eventually he reached the conclusion that it hadn't been there earlier. He took it and examined it.

"Not mine. Maybe Darren's?" he said, turning it in his hands. Suddenly it was wrenched from his grip and Harkat tied it quickly into a noose and looped it around his own neck.

"Don't!" cried Evra, swooping down to take it off but the little person just shook his head impatiently and pointed to Darren's empty bed.

"I wish you could just talk!" groaned Evra. Harkat half smiled and gestured to his sewn lips, shrugging. Evra turned the rope over and over in his hands and stared at the empty bed. It had been neatly made that morning with the pajamas laid out as usual on the pillow. Darren was meticulously tidy. Harkat interrupted the boy's gathering thoughts with a sad rattle. Evra glanced up to see him holding a broken maraca in his hands. The beans had spilt and lay in groups on the floor.

"Did you do that?" cried Evra, rescuing the broken instrument from the creature's hands. Harkat pointed to the bed and then to the door several times, jumping up and down.

"Look, I don't understand! Is it Darren? Did he break it?" Harkat nodded his head vigorously and then shook it, "I'll go and get Mr Tall or Mr Crepsley. They always seem to know what you lot are trying to say," added Evra. He pocketed some of the beans and followed the little person out the door. As he stepped into the bright sunshine, Evra looked down as a yell of shock erupted somewhere near his feet. Harkat had tackled Loaf Head to the floor, catching him off guard and was now pummeling him with his fists.

There was a roar of triumph from the chamber up ahead and the dark, damp corridor was unnaturally empty. Something was going on. Steve clicked his teeth in frustration. It seemed to him that recently more and more things appeared to be taking place without his consent. Where was the old respect? He was the Vampaneze Lord! When he had first arrived, the Vampaneze and Mr Tiny had made a big show of accepting him as the leader and listening to his views. Nothing had happened without his permission but now he hardly knew what was happening. He supposed he had lost sight of the Vampaneze's aims whilst rescuing Rose from that damned freak-show. Light spilled out into the corridor from the cracks in the wooden door and Steve hesitated in front of it, his hand hovering above the door knob. Why shouldn't he go in? He practically owned the place! Yet something inside him, a small voice which rose from the pit of his stomach, urged him to listen in from the secret passage. Steve fought the desire to throw open the intimidating doors and squeezed himself into a crack in the wall next to it instead. The cranny was dusty and tight but allowed just enough space for a body to crawl through. As he moved along it, the murmurs next door became clearer and formed odd words which became strings of sentences. Steve could hear Mr Tiny's soft tones full of authority. The man's gentle voice could make itself heard through an explosion so the concrete and earth between the speaker and Steve presented no problems.

"Yes, yes. You may see him later. I just want to be sure I've understood you correctly. No one saw you leave?"

"No one at all, sir. We was very careful. Had a getaway driver waiting an' everything."

"I see. Well, my congratulations, sir. You have succeeded."

"We've held up our end of the bargain. I wanna see Ursus!" said a gruff voice. There was a murmur of suspicious agreement. It was silenced quickly. Driven by curiosity, Steve managed to find a comfortable position and fixed a squinted eye to a gap in the decaying concrete. The crack allowed him partial vision into the next room. The sight was horrific. Mr Tiny was surrounded by five or six disfigured men and women. There was an abnormally tall, spindly woman with an elongated neck beside a short man in the shape of a vase. The freak was hopping from foot to foot with growing impatience.

"Why is it so bright in here?" moaned one of the entourage, "We hate the light. You know that Mr Tiny."

"I do, unfortunately light is necessary to see the boy clearly by. I needed to know you had brought me the correct boy."

"We have, we have," snapped a man with an elongated skull. His black eyes were pressed deep into his face and he had pointed teeth.

"Where is Ursus?" said another.

"Show me the vampire again," said Mr Tiny calmly ignoring the freak's request. A bundle was shoved forward. It was a boy bound in rope with a black sack over his head. His jeans were muddy and ripped in places and his white shirt had several buttons missing. Mr Tiny removed it and smiled. Steve's mouth opened in surprise. Darren glared around the circle. He had been gagged but his accusing eyes spoke volumes. The boy had clearly been kidnapped.

"Thank you gentlemen. Now Darren has joined us, we can bring the battle forward." Steve narrowed his eyes in confusion. The prophecy had clearly said the battle between the two lords had to take place under the Beaver moon and it wasn't even the Hunter's moon yet!

"Yeah, yeah, forget the bloody battle. Where's Ursus?" repeated a malformed freak. He clenched a bony fist but Mr Tiny just sighed.

"Patience, friends," he smiled, chins wobbling. Steve heard the creak of floorboards and the patter of dulled footsteps. Unfortunately the freaks did not.

There was a series of strangled cries and the snap of frail bones as the hidden Vampaneze descended on the defenseless group. Steve closed his eyes but the sounds of slaughter penetrated his hiding place and invaded his ears. Cries and screams and the splatter of blood. When it had quietened, Steve risked a peek. Two Vampaneze were leading a panic-stricken Darren away whilst the rest finished their meal. Mr Tiny dabbed at a spot of blood on his collar with a patterned handkerchief. Muttering to himself, he regarded the scene with disdain.

"Make sure you clear this lot up, will you?" he sniffed, pocketing the stained piece of material. A sense of terrifying admiration overcame Steve. Mr Tiny had calculated his every move. In his hiding place, Steve leant away from the hole. So it looked as though some of the freaks had betrayed Darren and had handed him over. He wondered what Mr Tiny had promised them in return. Whatever it was, they hadn't got it. It looked as though Mr Tiny had a habit of making false promises in order to get what he wanted. But what was it he wanted?


	32. Darren's rescuers prepare

**Don't actually know the twin's names. Saw Abby n' Brittany on the internet - corrections welcome. Again, Ursus and the Gang are fictitious. **

With the aid of several freaks, Evra managed to get the struggling pair into Mr Crepsley's tent. The inhabitants of the Cirque usually made an extra effort to avoid the old vampire's home due to his short temper and even shorter span of patience however Evra had made it clear it was an emergency. Rhamus, Rebecca, Abby and Brittany the conjoined twins and a few others hauled Harkat and Loaf Head apart and dragged them kicking and screaming into the khaki tent. The word tent, however, implies a boy scout's home-made den and so the word marquee or Rubb hall might be more appropriate. Anyway, whatever it was had a huge green, leather-lined, oak desk with an imposing chair made out of the kind of strong wood which left one assuming it had originally been built for a larger person. It often engulfed Mr Crepsley when he sat in it but it made him feel important and that was what counted.

The same man entered with a piqued expression that suggested he had better things to do than sort out a squabble between freaks. His black cloak billowed out around him as he swept the canvas doors aside and cut through the crowd which had piled into his home.

"What is the meaning of all this?" he cried gesturing around his tent with an arthritic hand. Several freaks flinched as his sharp gaze swept over them. Evra raised an uncertain hand.

"It's um, it's Harkat sir. He was trying to tell me something but then he jumped on Loaf Head. I don't know why but you can understand him, can't you?"

"He - "

"attacked - "

"poor - "

"Loaf Head!" cried the twins placing a hand on each of their hips. Mr Crepsley tutted at them and they were quiet.

"Harkat? Did you attack Loaf Head?" Harkat Mulds nodded so energetically that the stitches joining his head and neck seemed in danger of splitting.

"Why?" A series of hand gestures followed, some quite obscene, as Harkat tried to explain himself. As he was nearing the end of his silent speech, Mr Crepsley suddenly grew red with anger and then white with fear.

"Out! OUT!" he screamed at the freaks around him. They left without hesitation. The Mr Crepsley turned to Loaf Head.

"_Not you_," he snarled, teeth bared. Now only Rebecca and Evra remained as witnesses. Mr Crepsley grabbed the dwarf's collar and shook him furiously.

"Where did they take him? Tell me!"

"I - I don't know! I don't know!"

"Liar and scum!" shouted Mr Crepsley throwing the man to the floor. Loaf Head covered his head with his hands in anticipation of the blows but no one touched him. When he had the courage to look up, the vampire was watching Harkat's frantic sign language with growing anger.

"What's he saying?" said Rebecca timidly. Mr Crepsley rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"He says the Gang handed Darren over to the Vampaneze." Rebecca and Evra looked appalled.

"Why? Why would they do that?" cried Rebecca covering her mouth with her hands. Water burst from her eyes in floods. She rounded on the cowering dwarf.

"Listen here," she threatened, grabbing him by the collar, "you better tell me why they took Darren or I'll - " she shook him to and fro in a fit of rage before Evra unhooked her white knuckles and led her away sobbing. Loaf Head brushed himself down and raised an angry fist.

"How dare - !" he began.

"Loaf Head!" shrieked a shrill voice. Loaf Head whisked around to see the silhouette of Gertha Teeth outlined in the doorway against the sun. She had her hands on her hips and was shaking with anger.

"You tell the truth RIGHT NOW!" Loaf Head adopted a sulky expression and reluctantly turned to face the maddened vampire again.

"All right, all right," he muttered, "it _was_ the Gang. They took him to the Vampaneze lair a couple of hours ago. Mr Tiny came and promised them Ursus in return." There was a little gasp from the doorway.

"Ursus? Mr Tiny found him? No wonder they handed the boy over. They've been searching for him for years!"

"We have," agreed Loaf Head. Mr Crepsley gathered himself and sucked his teeth in an effort not to shout again.

"So they traded him over for revenge? _Revenge_?" he spat. Evra answered Rebecca's questioning look with a shrug.

"Um, who is Ursus?" he said. Loaf Head growled.

"We've been hunting that bastard for years! He was the man that changed us!" He shook visibly and Gertha ran over to him and patted him comfortingly on the forehead. "A child-buyer, that's what he was, a sadistic man. He bought and sold us like pieces o' meat! Put us on display when we were only kids! Hah! He bought us or stole us from our families when we were no more than infants and exploited us, kicked us and made us feel worthless and less than others." In the corner, Rebecca's sobs became quieter as her mouth formed a circle of horror.

"I'll never forget his laughter though or the names he used to call us. He destroyed our confidence and made us feel like disgusting animals. Well, any of us would do anything to find him again - to make him suffer!"

"But you didn't," Evra pointed out. Loaf Head just sighed, taking Gertha's hand in his.

"No, but I might if I get another chance," he said, ignoring Mr Crepsley's snarl, "but I've always found this life easier than the others. They can't even bear to look at themselves or at each other! Always skulking around in the dark in a miserable mood..." he trailed off sadly, shaking his head.

"That's horrible Loaf Head," said Rebecca in a small voice, "and you think Mr - whatshisface - offered the man that done that to you in exchange for Darren? But why would he want Darren?"

"Mr Tiny wants Darren because he believes he is the vampire lord," snapped Mr Crepsley, "pure nonsense of course. There are no real lords of any kind! Just scapegoats sent to fight each other."

"I don't understand," frowned Rebecca, "they want Darren to fight?"

"They want him to lose so the Vampaneze can crawl to power," said Mr Crepsley roughly. Harkat nodded and made another hand gesture.

"He's going to fight against Caleb," added Mr Crepsley, "Mr Tiny knew that when he saw Darren, Steve wouldn't be able to resist seeking revenge and that Darren wouldn't stand a chance." Gertha squeaked in shock whilst Loaf Head just stared at his feet. Rebecca covered her face in her arms.

"Well we'll have to go get him back then," spoke up Evra with uncharacteristic bravery. The group looked worriedly at each other with the exception of Mr Crepsley who pounded his hand with his fist with a triumphant yell.

"Yes, Evra, that's the attitude! We'll gather a small group. Harkat knows where the lair is, don't you Harkat?" Harkat nodded.

"But we won't stand a chance! They'll kill us on sight!" shrieked Gertha.

"Then we will be careful not to get caught," said Mr Crepsley quietly, "Gertha, Loaf Head, go and find a few volunteers but be careful not to alarm anyone. We don't want to cause any unnecessary anxiety but make sure they are aware of the risks involved." Gertha and Loaf Head left hurriedly, hand in hand. Mr Crepsley turned to Rebecca.

"Go and inform Mr Tall. Tell him...tell him not to worry, we'll be back soon." Rebecca regarded him skeptically.

"What? Something like - 'Back soon, just popped out to rescue Darren from the bloodthirsty Vampaneze underground lair'? Don't be daft!"

"You'll think of something," he said, ushering her out. Outside the ambient sounds of the Cirque continuing its evening routines seemed strange to Evra. How could the freaks carry on when there were so many new dilemmas springing up all the time? His best friend was in grave danger and yet his family acted as normal. It all seemed so surreal. Mr Crepsley's words brought Evra back to reality with a jolt.

"When the others return, we'll leave immediately."


	33. Excitement builds

**Like I've said before...this is what I wanted to happen after the FILM ended. It is a fanfic based on the FILM not the BOOK. Don't like, don't read. **

**Ps. **_Tulta munille_** is a reference to 'The Unknown Soldier.'**

A roar erupted around the cavern sending dust flying. Above her, stalactites quivered and threatened to fall. Rose covered her head with her hands in anticipation of their fall but they remained fixed to the ceiling where they'd been for thousands of years already. Another cheer echoed throughout the labyrinth of caves. Rose counted it on her fingers. It was the third in only a few minutes; something must be going on. A buzz of excitement, similar to that of electricity, fizzed in the air. Rose could feel the vibrations traveling through the ground.

There was a sudden gust of wind and a flash of shadow as a body ran past the entrance to the chamber, momentarily blocking the light which came from a flaming torch on the wall outside. Laughter drifted away as the unseen Vampaneze danced down the corridor.

_That's it._

Rose gathered herself and stood up, taking a deep breath as she did so. It was not uncommon for the Vampaneze to attack each other occasionally and she was certainly a prime target after the so called prophecy's words however Steve had not returned yet and the hum of excitement still lingered in the air like a swarm of bees overhead. She decided to investigate. If this were a film, the audience would be perched on the edges of their cinema seats begging the final girl not to step out into the deep, dark labyrinth where carnivorous creatures lurked in anticipation of their next meal. However this is not a film and Rose was not the stereotypical final girl. Teeth bared in a friendly warning, she flexed her fingers with their razor sharp nails and strode out into the hall.

The end of the hallway was alive with a buzz of activity. A small crowd had gathered but they had their backs to Rose and were far more interested in something else to bother her anyway. She crept onwards, curiosity driving her and strained to see what was interesting the other Vampaneze. A voice rang out over the heads of the crowd and reached her ears. It was Mr Tiny.

"Back! Back! Make way!" The crowd parted like the red sea as the large man elbowed his way through. Behind him, two Vampaneze were dragging what looked like a prisoner. His hands and feet were bound and a black sack hid his identity. Rose shrunk back into the shadows as the party passed her. As he reached the chained door to the dungeons, Mr Tiny paused and held up a fat hand.

"No one is to touch him!" he cried, "No blood shall be spilled until dawn!" A great cry erupted and Mr Tiny had to strain to be heard.

"We have successfully captured the vampire lord and in a few hours he will die at the hands of our own!" Rose's gasp of realization and anguish was lost in the various battle cries of the Vampaneze.

"_Death to Vampires!"_

"_Long live the Vampaneze!"_

"_Tulta munille!"_

There were a few titters at the last one. Having sensed he had stopped, Darren kicked out with bound legs and tried to wriggle out of the Vampaneze's firm grasp. His feeble attempt at freedom was met with a growl and the woman dragged her nails across his bare arm. At the sight of fresh blood, the gathering crowd advanced, teeth bared, bony fingers flexing. Mr Tiny sensed the danger and grabbed the boy himself.

"Thank you Lillith," he snapped as the woman opened her mouth to complain, "he shall remain in the dungeons until dawn. Zander, Lucard...if you please?" The iron bolted door was wrenched open by two burly Vampaneze and Darren was kicked down the stone steps. His captures followed gleefully.

"And now," yelled Mr Tiny over the wall of sound, "let us prepare the Great Hall!" The dungeon door swung shut behind him with a clang. The crowd dispersed and in small groups, the Vampaneze made their way to the Great Hall. Rose watched fearfully as they passed but not one spared her a second glance. The energy amongst them was so alive it was driving them onwards. They were excited. Leading the way, the bald and shiny head of Mr Tiny was barely visible bobbing around the corner. He was in fact quite a short man but he had a way of standing tall and straight which fooled others into thinking he was taller than he was.

As the last of the Vampaneze disappeared, Rose found herself staring at the cold metal door. It wasn't locked; it didn't need to be. No one could possibly want to enter the foul smelling dungeons and if they did, it wasn't by choice. However it looked as though Mr Griefstrike and Mr Dreadweep were the only wardens currently on guard, the others having followed Mr Tiny to the Great Hall. Her imagination filled itself with images of a disguise but common sense reminded her that a Vampaneze's sense of smell was sharper than his eyesight. A hooded robe might hide her identity but the stink of fear would certainly betray her. Suddenly a loud reverberation caused her heart to skip. The door handle turned again and swung open. In a space shorter than a second, Rose managed to clear the distance between her and the nearest plinth, pure terror pushing her and she hid behind it. Fortunately the rising excitement still loitering in the air dulled the Vampaneze's sense of smell and they failed to notice the double-headed placid bust.

Their echoing footsteps were replaced by those of Rose as she crept over to the intimidating door and wrenched it open. The door did not creak, suggesting it was oiled often due to regular use. It shut just as silently behind her, it's narrow window allowing only a faint glow of light through. Feeling her way down the steps, Rose soon landed in what felt like a foyer. There was a cold draught and a slit of light lying on the floor like a ruler betrayed a door. Extending an uncertain hand toward it, she felt the coldness of stainless steel. It was the door to the dungeons.

_Well it's certain death in either direction_, she reasoned and with that consoling thought in mind, Rose lent against the door and pushed it open and looked into the startled eyes of a young Vampaneze. _Damn, _thought Rose_, they've obviously left the novice on guard. _The Vampaneze however looked young and nervous and she was fairly certain she could overpower him if need be. He bared his teeth in what he hoped was a threatening manner but Rose elbowed him out the way arrogantly and strode onwards. She was already learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don't apply to you.

Soon the only sounds this far underground were that of her own footsteps and the rustlings of rats. Sometimes something uttered the odd whimper but it sounded half-hearted like the poor creature had already accepted death but was trying at least to keep up appearances. Most of the cell doors were left open with nothing inside. The Vampaneze rarely kept prisoners. They were greedy and preferred an instant kill. Finally though, a closed door presented itself. A small square window displayed a hunched figure rocking in the corner. At the sound of the chains around the handle, it looked up but it's features were hidden in shadow. Rose let go off the chains and stepped back from the door. There was no guarantee that the prisoner in there was Darren but if it was, Rose knew that time was running out. She grabbed the executioners mask that Darren had been wearing last time she saw him and pulled it on. It had been hanging on a hook by the door. Covering her identity, it offered her no protection and very little comfort but she felt better with it on.

"I'm coming in," she said gruffly, grabbing the chain. The slightest pressure reduced it to dust which slipped through her cold fingers and lay at her feet. The door swung inwards.

"Whassat?" said a familiar voice. Darren tried to look up but his heavy head drooped. Rose ran to his side.

"Darren? Darren, can you hear me?" The darkness concealed his face but Rose's fingers found the cuts and blood on his face.

"Who? Who is it? Who are you?" Darren seemed to be struggling to get his words out and Rose figured he was probably to stressed to deal with anything else. If she told him her name he might refuse to let her help him, the untrusting fool.

"My name is irrelevant," she said.

"That's a pretty name," said Darren who still hadn't got over his concussion. Rose helped him to his feet and steadied him.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she promised, disguising her voice. Darren's curious hand found her cheek.

"Who are you? Really?" he asked. Rose removed his hand with her own.

"Stop it," she whispered, "Come one. There isn't much time." She tried to pull the boy forward but his feet seemed rooted to the floor.

"I know that voice, I recognize your voice..." he twisted round to face Rose, stumbling in the process and outstretched a hand to feel her features again.

"Stop it!" Rose repeated. She propped him up again.

"Rose?" There was a creak but Rose ignored it. Her back to the door, she faced the darkness of the cell and the boy within.

"Yes, all right, it is me," she snapped, "but listen, we don't have time!" The figure swayed in the shadows.

"Rose?"

"Yes, we've established that. I'm going to try and get us both out of here alive, yeah? But I need you to co-operate. The guards will be back soon."

"Rose!"

"WHAT?" There was a crack followed by a dull thud as Rose sank to her knees and then hit the floor. A hand grabbed Darren's collar and dragged him forward. He tripped over the girl's body and into the arms of foul-smelling Vampaneze.

"It's time to go, vampire," it sneered.

"What shall I do with this one Lucard?" said the other, giving Rose a kick.

"Tie her up, we'll deal with her later."

"Can't I have her?" whined the second guard, replacing the burnt out torch in it's holster.

"Nah, Rosie's not too bad. I reckon she deserves a few more hours of life at least. I'll tell you what, I'll ask Mr Tiny and see if you can drain her later on though, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks mate." The two Vampaneze left the cell, locking the door behind them. Darren allowed himself to be led away, watching the key to his old cell being tossed aside with a sullen expression. The clang of the door shutting had a final sound about it not unlike the closing of a coffin lid or the sealing of a tomb. Darren spared a quick glance over his shoulder as he was led towards his death but the door remained very definitely closed.


	34. The Fight

The Great Hall met Mr Tiny's expectations at last. He surveyed the huge room with a soft smile of satisfaction, his thumbs tucked into his waistcoat. The stone floor had been cleaned so it gleamed a marble white and black drapes hung from the pillars and ceiling. Neither was necessary but the man felt style improved a lot of things, even the drab, weary room. The battle was the key event, months of hard work on his behalf and years of built up tensions between the Vampires and Vampaneze would finally erupt in a glorious fight. Mr Tiny turned to face the small group of Vampaneze elders who had taken to following him around like a mini-government and addressed them.

"Friends, the hall is sufficient. Both lords are ready. It will not be long."

"How long? We have waited lifetimes! Where is the vampire lord?"

"Hush Damien," snapped Xavier, "a few minutes more should not trouble you after a lifetime's practice."

"I just want to be sure we have the right boy! The battle must take place tonight, mustn't it?" Mr Tiny nodded.

"Yes, yes. I believe I have already explained the prophecy's correction?" Silence fell, broken by the odd mutter and grumble. Mr Tiny resumed observing the Vampaneze with interest. The man took an interest in humankind, unfortunately for them though he treated the race like a hobby, a game to be taken out of it's box once in a while and played with. Mr Tiny was smiled. He had just spotted a shifty looking figure lurking near the back, failing at looking inconspicuous in a crowd.

"Steve!" he boomed. Steve glanced up with an expression so mixed, it was almost unreadable. Almost. Mr Tiny was somewhat disappointed to find a trace of fear lingering on his features. Steve flit down the length of the room and reached his side in a manner of seconds.

"Yeah?" he said peevishly. Mr Tiny assumed he was nervous.

"Are you ready, my son? Are you prepared?" Steve shrugged.

"I guess," he said, "where's Rose?" It was the man's turn to shrug.

"Oh I expect she'll be along momentarily. The battle will begin soon. I have heard the vampire lord is on his way. We shall soon learn his identity." Steve bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to retort. He knew the man was lying. He had spied him receiving Darren last night.

"How long do I have?" asked Steve.

"A few minutes, not long. Go and find Xavier, he has the ceremonial robes for you." Mr Tiny watched the figure stroll off and gloated. The plan was going perfectly.

"Mr Tiny, Mr Tiny!" whispered a voice near his ear hurriedly. The fat man did not turn around but merely nodded in acknowledgment, "It's the girl, Rose. She tried to break the vampire out, sir, but we got her. She's currently unconscious in one of the cells, sir."

"I shall deal with the matter momentarily,' Mr Tiny said. It was a good word. It always made people hesitate. They were never quite sure whether he meant he'd deal with it now, or just deal with it briefly. And no-one ever dared ask.

"Very well sir. Shall we bring in the vampire now?" Another nod sent the guard hurrying back toward the door. Mr Tiny clapped his hands. The Vampaneze turned their heads as one to face him. There were currently hundreds, possibly thousands, of pairs of red eyes narrowing in his direction. The Vampaneze did not normally tolerate the sort of man who assumed that clapping his hands granted him undivided attention but the excitement of the imminent battle overrode these basic mutinous feelings.

"Friends, the vampire has arrived!" A great roar of satisfaction erupted. The Vampaneze craned their necks and looked towards the doors. They opened and crack and a Vampaneze poked her head through the gap and grinned horribly. Mr Tiny nodded.

"Please welcome our - _your_ opponent!" Boos and hisses rose to a deafening rumble as Darren was pushed through the doors. Two guards stood either side of him maintaining a stoic post, each with a menacing hand resting firmly on his shoulders and a tall Vampaneze with long white blond hair strode ahead. Darren had acquired a long black robe which drowned him and made his pale, scared face stand out. The Vampaneze laughed with glee to see their enemy look so unprepared.

Mr Tiny was suddenly aware of a presence at his right side. He turned slightly and looked down his nose at Steve who was standing with his eyes fixed on his former best friend.

"It is always helpful to confront an enemy who is ready to die for his cause,' he said smugly. 'This means that both you and he share a common goal." Steve didn't reply immediately; he watched the boy carefully.

"He doesn't look ready to die," he said quietly, "he looks afraid." He looked up at his mentor and frowned.

"So...Darren's the vampire's lord? I can kill him easily." Mr Tiny grinned.

"No doubt, son. But why don't you play it out a bit? Give the Vampaneze a revolution to remember, eh?"

"The Vampaneze council said I should kill him quickly and with as much mess as possible to antagonize the vampires, you know?" Mr Tiny rolled his eyes.

"I have certainly noticed that the Vampaneze elders are capable of really stupid ideas, yes. Fight the vampire first then finish him off. Prove your strength," he rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, "don't listen to the Vampaneze, boy, listen to me." Steve nodded. His impassive expression was enough to suffice Mr Tiny but inside, his mind and emotions were in turmoil.

Steve was barely aware of the dozens of hands slapping him on the back as he was propelled forward into a clearing. Darren was standing a few hundred feet away, quite alone. The black robe which fell to the floor completely swamped him and swished around his ankles. Steve's own robe was slightly to big for him too but he'd rolled back to sleeves to his elbows and the hood partially hid his eyes, casting a dark shadow across the bridge of his nose. Looking around the room, Steve saw the Vampaneze cat-calling and urging him to fight as though in slow motion. Fists punched the air and red eyes flashed as he took up his position. Darren looked twice as scared as he felt, he was trembling and his lip was quivering as he tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. Steve wished he would try to look braver, threatening even. He wasn't sure he could justify fighting someone as vulnerable as Darren never mind killing him. Just then Steve's conscience spoke up. The voice of reason was cracked and hoarse as it hadn't spoken in a while but it clearly told him what the Vampaneze wanted him to do was wrong. Steve pushed the voice to the back of his mind easily, it put up little resistance. He had to kill Darren. He didn't have a choice. Did he?

Mr Tiny stepped back into the shadows as a Vampaneze took over. Xavier raised his hands for silence and, as an excited hush fell like a blanket over the crowds, his hands dropped to his side, indicating the battle should commence. Steve shrugged and walked slowly toward the boy. Darren remained rooted to the spot.

"I...I - I don't want to hurt you, Steve,' stuttered Darren.

'That's good,' said Steve. 'I don't want you to hurt me either. Though I doubt you could." He was now only a few feet away from his enemy but the anger he had expected at the sight of Darren did not well up. In fact he felt nothing. No anger, no frustration, no fear, nor pity. He knew he could end Darren's life in a matter of minutes, clearly Darren knew too, but he didn't really want to.

"If I killed you, it would be for the Vampaneze, not for me," he told the boy honestly, "this isn't revenge, this is a revolution."

"I think it's supposed to be kind of like revenge," said Darren uncertainly. He glanced up at Mr Tiny's expression and remembered what Mr Rabish had told him.

"Well, it's not," snapped Steve, "I'm going to kill you because they want me to, not because I particularly want to, all right?" The bridge of silence between them allowed Steve to reflect on what he'd just said. He hadn't meant to be so honest but now he had said the words he knew they were true.

"Uh, that's not...I mean, I didn't mean - "

"I think I got your meaning," said Darren, "you're just doing what you're told, right? Following orders?" He stepped back as Steve bared his teeth. His incisors seemed especially long.

"No! That's not how it is! They follow me! I'm their leader!" he growled.

"No, you're their lord. It's not the same thing. You're supposed to fight not rule!" Darren knew his words were dangerous but the more he talked, the less chance Steve had to rip his throat out.

"I'm supposed to _win_," snarled Steve, stressing the final word. He took a step forward and crouched, ready to spring.

"Get on with it!" cried a voice from the back.

"Less talking!"

"Ouch!" A buzz of panic rose and spread.

"Look out! Freaks!" A series of cries and growls infiltrated the crowds nearest the door and pandemonium spread as the Vampaneze gradually realised something was wrong. Darren and Steve both spun around as a voice called out Darren's name.

Mr Crepsley, joined by a small army of freaks, burst into the clearing. Blood and scratches covered his face but a bloody dagger was visible, gleaming in the poor light.

"Get behind me!" he roared. A Vampaneze made to attack him but a quick wrist movement caused her to double up, blood spreading through her dress. Mr Crepsley wiped the blade on his coat and signalled Darren to join them. Steve, seeing Darren's hesitation, took advantage of the interruption and leapt at him, pinning him to the floor. The boys wrestled but Steve was stronger and Darren found himself unable to move.

"Finish me then," muttered Darren through gritted teeth. Steve looked down at his enemy. Blue eyes were staring up at him through locks of hair and he had several scratched across his throat.

"No!" roared Mr Crepsley from across the room. The old vampire's arms were pinned behind his back and he was being held by the Vampaneze who were watching gleefully. Steve's gaze, fractured by tousled hair, met Mr Tiny's.

"Should I kill him?" he cried. The crowds cheered and hollered, enjoying the show.

"But I don't want to!" The crowds cheered again, even louder if possible. Steve sighed. The crowd's excitement made them stupid. It didn't matter what Steve yelled, he knew that the crowds only saw him pinning the opposition to the floor. Whatever he said was interpreted as a battle cry.

"Don't...want...to?" said Darren, struggling for air. He felt the boy's grip lessen slightly.

"Then...get...OFF!" Steve was sent flying backwards, skidding along the floor on the space between his shoulders before perfecting a backwards roll into a crouching start. But before he had a chance to stand, Darren rocketed into him, his sharp nails elongated. Steve felt sharp pains across his neck and chest as Darren clawed his way to freedom. Steve struggled to sit up but his hands were pinned to his side. _What's the use?_ He thought, waiting for the pain to end. He knew this wasn't his fight. He and Darren had already fought that day in the theatre and he knew another confrontation wouldn't solve anything. Eventually, the agony lessened as the frenzied attack ceased.

Twinges of pain seared across his throat. Steve gasped and opened his eyes. Darren was beside him, staring at his with fearful eyes, a hand covering his mouth. He was shaking, horrified by the sudden jolt of anger that had surged through him. Steve sat up and felt the pain from bruised shoulders complain. At last, Darren removed his hand from his mouth.

"I could have killed you," he stuttered.

"I would have let you," muttered Steve, pushing the boy away and sitting up. Open mouthed and trembling, Darren staggered back and fell into the arms of the waiting Vampaneze.


	35. Rose's rescue

The first thing Rose noticed was the light. It filled the small chamber and seemed to intrude almost on the dark's usual hideout. Light attempted to embarrass her surroundings by showing up the dirt and the grit which covered the floor and the rust and moss and dust that clung to the walls. At last Rose's vision focused enough to inform her of the flaming torches that lined the walls. They were very high up and far out of reach but their light filled the small cell. A lump on the side of her head complained about being hit and her wrists screamed in agony and at the injustice at being tied up. Rose, on the other hand, smiled. She was alone.

Rather than tear her hair out in frustration or break down in terrified panic induced sobs, Rose reminded herself she was still alive and still capable of escape. She focused on taking a more positive approach to a seemingly hopeless situation and especially on the crumbling mortar around the edge of the door with a dirty spoon she had found wedged behind her straw bed. The spoon had been reduced to the size and shape of a blunt nail file as the result of a few hours desperate digging but fortunately, she had only been a resident in the cells for a few hours and so no one had come to change the bedding, or else the Vampaneze would have discovered the world's heaviest mattress.

It was the decaying stone around the bar's edge that currently occupied her thoughts, where a huge iron ring had been fixed to the wall as an anchor for a pair of manacles. Rose crouched facing the wall and grasped the ring with both hands, bracing her feet against the slabs on either side, and pulled. Her shoulders felt as though a burning flame was creeping along them and stars obscured her vision, but at last the ring cracked and fell away with an inappropriate jangle. Rose rubbed the grit from her eyes and peeked into the hole. There sat a smug new spoon. It was shiny. Rose frowned and studied it. There was the sound of applause from behind her. Tendons in her neck twanged as she turned and Rose saw two of the Vampaneze guards watching her through the bars.

Well done, Rosie!" said one of them. "Zander here owes me his next meal! I told him you'd make it that far!"

"You set this up, did you, Mr. Griefstrike?" said Rose weakly, watching the glint of light dance on the spoon.

"Oh, not us, girl. It was Mr Tiny's orders. He insisted our prisoners should be offered the chance of freedom."

"Freedom? But we're miles underground! There's no where to dig to!"

"Hmm, yeah I 'spose," said the Vampaneze guard. "It's only the chance, you see. Not really freedom. Hah, that'd be a bit daft, wouldn't it?" The Vampaneze had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it regularly went cuckoo.

"I suppose so, yes," said Rose. She didn't say "you bastards." The guards had treated her quite civilly, mainly by not killing her or attempting to drain her of blood and she made a point of getting on with them. Just in case. Besides, these Vampaneze had large fangs and a limited imagination. So, speaking carefully, she added: "Some people might consider that cruel, Mr. Griefstrike."

"Yes, we asked him about that, but he said it wasn't. He said it provided," his forehead wrinkled "healthy exercise, prevented sulking, and offered hope."

"Hope," muttered Rose glumly.

"Not put out, are you, Rose?"

"Me? No...don't be silly."

The Vampaneze grinned. "Oh, good. You've been a right laugh these past few hours, the way you kept going. Stuffing all the stone and dirt in your mattress? Very clever, very tidy. Very neat. It's really cheered us up, having you in here."

"Don't mention it, Lucard. Can I call you Lucard, Mr. Griefstrike?"

"'Course," he grinned nastily, "Now I'd get some rest if I was you, girl, 'cos we're going to kill you in half an hour."

"Hey, don't I get breakfast?"

"Well orders say we can't let you out, you see, on account of you being our prisoner and all, not even to hunt," said the guard reproachfully. "But, tell you what, I'll go get you a snack. I'm sure I can find a corpse lying around. 'Cos it's you, Rosie."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it," said Rose. She shook her manacles half heartedly, "I'll just wait here then..." She watched, bathed in light, as the party of Vampaneze left her again, apparently amused and satisfied she was still trapped. _Trapped_, thought Rose. Then she heard the jangle of keys again and quick footsteps back down the stone steps.

"That was quick," she called, craning her neck. But instead of the ugly pointed faces of Lucard Griefstrike and Zander Dreadweep, Evra and Rebecca appeared. They stared at each other in equal amazement.

"Rose?" they cried together. Rose was too surprised to bade them be quiet. She crawled over to the iron bars and stuck her chained hands through.

"Guys! How did you -? You'd better get me out of here!" Rebecca snatched the keys out of Evra's unresisting hands and unlocked her. She then turned her attention to the padlock around the bars at the far end. Evra remained where he was.

"How did you know where I was?" asked Rose over the tinkle of the key in the lock. Evra gave himself a mental shake.

"We didn't," he admitted, "we came down here to search for Darren!" Rose bit back a sarcastic comment, just pleased they found her.

"How did you even get down here? Did you come on your own? What were you thinking?" At last the lock clicked and Rebecca removed the key.

"A bunch of us came," she said as she heaved the bars back, "We came with Mr Crepsley but we split up. We decided to check down here and the others went to the Great Hall." Rose stared at them both in amazement.

"You split up? _Split_ up? Are you stupid? You could have been killed! You still might be!" she added as she remembered the gravity of the situation. "I'm down here because they didn't have time to kill me earlier! If you're caught too..."

"Well let's get out of here then!" said Evra hurriedly. He grabbed the girls and headed for the stairs, pure terror pushing him onwards.

The trio reached the landing unhindered, something Rose found astonishing.

"This is bad," whispered Evra.

"But where is everyone? This place is usually swarming with Vampaneze!"

"They're all at the fight," said Rebecca breathlessly. She turned and hauled Evra up behind her. Evra had started off in the lead but had realised, about halfway up, what it was he was running towards and had promptly slowed down. "Come _on _Evra!" There was a wheezy cough and then the snake-boy appeared, looking out of breath.

"This...is...bad. Are - we - alone?" he panted. Rose nodded carefully.

"I think so," she whispered. Ahead, the path seemed clear. The trio approached the closed doors to the Great Hall in a cautious crocodile line. Evra held up the rear, glancing fearfully over his shoulder and gibbering slightly, Rebecca took the lead whereas Rose stuck to the middle. She had tried to warn Rebecca about what they were walking towards and had explained why she was, in fact, in the middle and _not_ at the front but the girl had brushed aside her advice. Rose watched in bemusement as Rebecca crept toward the doors in an army style, occasionally pirouetting and flattening herself against the wall and saying "hup hup hup" under her breath. Eventually they reached the doors. Rose pushed past Rebecca, who had been about to knock, and lowered her eye to the keyhole. Bodies crammed against the door obscured her vision.

"This is bad," said Evra.

"You said that already,"

"It seemed worth repeating."

"We'll have to go straight in," Rose interrupted, straightening up. Rebecca nodded gravely but Evra looked horrified.

"Go in? In there?"

"On the count of three...One..."

"Two..." said Rebecca.

"Three!"


	36. Steve's revenge

**Okay so this is what I think should have happened had the film gone on a bit. Remember, this is a fanfic about the FILM. It isn't true to the books because, truth be told, I haven't had time to read them :/ (I will one day) Mr Crepsley's mates' names are made up - I'm not even sure he has any...**

**Anyway, Mr Tiny - EAT DUST**

There was a reverberating crack followed by a shriek of anger. Mr Crepsley threw a Vampaneze's decapitated head across the floor, it's face still frozen in a state of shock, successfully bowling over a couple of Vampaneze like skittles. He flitted and dodged his captors and lunged at the party holding Darren. Steve met him halfway and tackled him around the waist, knocking him to the floor.

Steve, being the younger of the two by centuries was stronger and faster and was therefore able to place the vampire in a headlock, tightening his grip until the man chocked and spluttered. However Mr Crepsley, being older and apparently wiser, had been in similar situations before and had learnt by experience and knew how to overthrow the boy. He turned onto his side, successfully gaining leverage and hooked Steve's hip with his leg and pushed his opponent's head away. Steve fought back, teeth bared and gnashed and growled but Mr Crepsley managed to swing him round and pin his arms up behind his back.

"Try anything and I'll break your arm," he snarled into his ear. Steve just grunted.

"Let Darren and the others go or your Vampaneze lord dies!" cried Mr Crepsley, brandishing a dagger. The Vampaneze laughed.

"Well, it seems we have reached a stalemate gentlemen," said Mr Tiny.

Meanwhile Rose, Rebecca and, after he'd been pushed, persuaded and pulled, Evra crept into the room unnoticed. All eyes were on the lords. Rose led the trio to a clearing in the crowd. She gasped when she saw Darren, surrounded by Vampaneze, across the room from Mr Crepsley who was holding a knife to Steve's bare throat. Neither boy looked particularly worried. Each had complete faith in their side. Rose grimaced. Both Steve and Darren were within reach...if only they'd look in her direction! She crept forward, hoping to catch someone's eye. Unfortunately, she did.

"No!" cried Rebecca and Evra in unison but it was too late. Mr Tiny had spotted the girl out of the corner of his eye and grabbed her collar.

"Ah, leverage," he grinned, his piggy eyes gleaming. He pulled Rose around to face the hall and cupped a hand under her chin, forcing her to look the others in their eyes. Steve struggled to be free of Mr Crepsley's constraints but the old vampire held him back, whispering urgently into his ear. Mr Tiny smiled to see the young Vampaneze so distressed.

"Is this the part where you say if I hurt her, you'll kill me?" he said.

"No," Steve said, "If you hurt Rose, _she'll_ kill you."

Mr Tiny laughed causing Steve to writhe even harder. Ignoring Mr Crepsley's snarls, Steve paused to think for a moment. Mr Tiny wasn't one to gloat. If he wanted you dead, you never even heard about it. So why was he using Rose as a bargaining tool? It was as if someone had found the light switch in the dark that had occupied Steve's state of mind only a moment ago. He suddenly understood. Mr Tiny didn't want him dead, he wanted him angry. The man had always understood that Steve's uncontrollable anger was the key to his inhuman strength and power.

"Let her go Mr Tiny," he said at last, "you don't need to provoke me. I can kill this lot on my own." Mr Tiny's expression flickered as he sought to understand the boy's words.

"Oh? Oh..._oh_, I see. You think I'm somehow..." he flailed his hands wildly, seeking the right word, "_encouraging_ you? Quite the contrary. I seek only to maintain a state of organized chaos. I plan to hand Rose to the Vampaneze, Steve, to see what happens next of course." Rose struggled in his vice like grip as he edged toward the hungry crowd.

"No! Wait! Don't!" shouted Steve as the first clawed hands stretched toward the girl. "What about the battle? The war? The revolution?"

"Tut tut son, haven't you caught on yet? Well, probably not, after all, how aware are the pawns that they are moves away from being knocked off the board? You're just one of many but you, admittedly, you did make it all the way up the board." Mr Crepsley snorted and tightened his grip on the deflating Steve. The vampire had never really got on with any game much more complex than darts. Chess especially had always annoyed him. He hated the way the pawns made their way blindly across the border to slaughter their counter parts whilst the Royalty hid at the back.

"But here's some advice, boy. Don't put your trust in revolutions. They always come around again. That's why they're called revolutions." Steve, now thoroughly chastened, looked imploringly at Rose. She looked back, helpless and pitying.

"And so that's it? You sat back and controlled a bloodthirsty, revenge centered army through whispers and rumors and false promises?" shouted Mr Crepsley.

"Oh no, not _my_ army_,_ Larten. I wouldn't dream of ordering anyone around. This is entirely your fight," said Mr Tiny, "Besides, I never get personally involved, people could get hurt."

"They already have!" shouted Darren. Mr Tiny looked around, apparently having forgotten he was still there, and chortled.

"A few more shouldn't matter then..." growled Steve in a low voice. Whilst the majority of the room looked puzzled, Mr Tiny looked impressed. In his eyes, the boy was still desperately clinging onto the hope that he could regain some power, preparing again to fight. Rose closed her eyes when she noticed how Steve's hand had moved to find Mr Crepsley's forgotten dagger which was hanging limply in the vampire's loose grip. Mr Tiny noticed too, and smiled.

"Don't do anything rash, boy," he warned in cheerful tones, hoping against hope that he would. He delighted even more in the fact that Mr Crepsley hadn't noticed where the entire room seemed to be staring with bated breath. Steve muttered something incomprehensible and made a grab for the dagger. It slipped easily from the vampire's surprised grasp. Steve turned to face the old man and stuck the knife into his shoulder. Mr Crepsley hissed in pain as blood seeped from the gash. The Vampaneze's cheers drowned out the Freak's cries.

"Well do-" began Mr Tiny. He had raised his hands to applaud the move when the grin on his chubby face froze. Rose tilted her head to the right to see the dagger's blade protruding from his heaving chest. She had felt the rush of air whoosh past her ear. Steve had turned so quickly, many had failed to see him aim and hurl the knife at the fat man, missing Rose by inches. Blood gushed from the wound in his heart as the demon pushed Rose aside and took a shaky step toward Steve. Mr Tiny smiled at no one in particular and then he seemed to fall back as wisps of grey smoke enveloped his body. And then suddenly, he was gone.

Darren shook himself free from the stunned Vampaneze and ran towards Mr Crepsley. The vampire was being supported by Harkat and several freaks who slowly lowered him to the ground.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he muttered, embarrassed by the attention, "It's just a flesh wound."

"How could you?" screamed Darren over his shoulder. Steve looked affronted.

"What? I didn't _kill_ him!"

"You tried to! You stabbed him!"

"I didn't," said Steve defensively. Seeing Darren's incredulous expression, he appealed to Rose who was swaying beside him. "I didn't Rose, honestly. I just needed to distract Mr... Him." Rose, looking very pale, nodded and wet her lips.

"Yeah, I believe you," she said hoarsely.

"See," said Steve to Darren. Mr Crepsley managed to push the freaks away long enough to give Steve a dirty look.

"And you couldn't think of anything else?" he said sarcastically. Steve shrugged. By now the Vampaneze had figured out that the fight had ceased and although they didn't fully comprehend why, the fact that both lords were still alive was enough to anger them. They advanced.

"You killed him!" screeched an attractive Vampaneze, wringing her hands in distress, "Ze Vampaneze lord _stabbed_ meester Tiny! He _stabbed_ him! Xavier, do somezing!" An irate man was pushed forward.

"Celeste do not be so dramatic," he scolded, "the boy only penetrated _one_ of the demon's hearts."

"One?" said Steve.

"Demon?" said Rose. Mr Crepsley struggled to his feet. A damp cloth had been wrapped around his shoulder as a crude bandage and he was supporting himself on Loaf Head's head.

"You were aware he was a demon?" said Mr Crepsley, "what else did you know?" Xavier rolled his red eyes.

"We knew it was all a game to him, yes. But it was real to us. We've always _wanted_ this fight Larten, so have your kind. We allowed the demon to...how do you say..._stay for the ride_."

"But he was using you! He was using all of us!"

"To an extent, I agree, but we also used him too. He was useful when it came to finding us a lord although his way was a lot more...showy."

"Always liked a show," said a booming voice from the back. Xavier and Mr Crepsley looked up sharply from their conversation to see Mr Tall towering elegantly above the crowd.

"Mr Crepsley," he thundered in tones that were not unfamiliar to primary school teachers worldwide, "how dare you lead a group of the Cirque's inhabitants into this lair unprotected and only give me half the information!"

"I told Rebecca to tell you," he whined, attempting to shift the blame. The giant sighed.

"Yes, and the poor girl didn't know where to look!" He turned to Rebecca and gave her a sympathetic nod which said: don't fret, it's him I'm annoyed at, not you. Rebecca shuffled her feet gratefully.

"How dare you!" the man repeated. Mr Crepsley opened his mouth to retort but another voice made him pause.

"How dare you!" echoed a male voice, "how dare you not invite us!" Gavner stepped forward, a flank of vampires behind him. The vampires and Vampaneze spat and hissed at each other. Mr Crepsley grinned to see faces he recognised. His own kind embraced him.

"Gavner! Carmella! Eli! What are you all doing here?"

"Mr Tall told us you planned to invade the Vampaneze. Frankly, we were offended you didn't think to invite us!"

"It wasn't planned," said Mr Crepsley, shaking his head, "I never intended to invade anyone. They took Darren - Darren Shan - and we came to retrieve him."

"Ah, Darren Shan? Our so called lord, eh? What a farce!" laughed one. Darren was relieved to see that the strong belief in the false prophecy only applied to the Vampaneze.

"So where's the other lord? Did you get rid of him?"

"I'm right behind you," growled Steve. The vampires turned together and crouched low ready to spring. There was about twenty of them.

"Wait, wait," said Mr Crepsley calmly, "the boy impaled Mr Tiny."

"Mr Tiny? That snake was here? Damn him! Now this all makes sense!"

"One of his games, no doubt," said a female vampire, shaking her head. Steve was beginning to feel that everyone knew the man was evil except him. He hated feeling so stupid.

"So you all knew?" he cried, "you knew he was just using me and you never said?" he accused the vampires and Mr Crepsley at first but realized that they wouldn't have told him because to them, he was the enemy. Then he turned to Xavier and the Vampaneze but to them, he was an outsider, brought in to act as a catalyst for war and so they wouldn't have told him. He turned to Darren, his enemy, who hadn't known either and wouldn't have told him anyway and then to Rose.

"I didn't know," she said quietly.

"But you suspected. You tried to tell me and I wouldn't listen."

"But I didn't _know_. I wasn't _certain_."

"No. You were _right_." Steve turned back to the vampires. He didn't like the smug way they were looking at him. He had been promised power, strength, immortality...but now Mr Tiny had gone and had taken his promises with him. He felt like he was playing poker with no cards, and the vampires had just called his bluff.

"All right, all right," he scowled, "so the prophecy...doesn't exist. Where do I fit in?" It was painful to say. He had spent nearly a year allying himself with the Vampaneze, forming a new identity, fitting in and now the Vampaneze didn't want him, even after he had done everything he could to become like them. If only his old mentor Murlough was here, he would have stuck up for him. Steve felt a lump in his throat as he thought of the dead Vampaneze.

"Well, it depends...do the Vampaneze still want to fight?" This question was directed at Xavier who had suddenly found himself spokesperson after the semi-death of Mr Tiny.

"We...we are...I think I need to hold a meeting first."

"Good idea," said Mr Crepsley sternly, "maybe have a serious think about who it is you are threatening." The newly allied freaks and vampires bristled with pride. Xavier looked nervous.

"However," he began, "the lord - that is to say the prophecy concerning the lords - appears to be obsolete. We have no further need for the boy." Steve felt the metaphorical knife twist in the wound in his back. Xavier threw him a sneer.

"There are always second chances available to those willing to change, but you, Xavier, you and your kind have no hope left. You are doomed to a life of unhappiness and dissatisfaction." Mr Tall unfolded his arms and beckoned the freaks. They fled to him, seeking comfort and safety. Mr Crepsley led the vampires through the crowds of disgraced Vampaneze toward the exit, pushing Darren in front.

"Come Rose," said the giant kindly. Rose raised her eyebrows. She was endlessly impressed by the ringmaster's ability to forgive and by the extent of his compassion and although Rose wasn't sure whether she wanted to return to the Cirque, she knew she didn't want to live with the Vampaneze. _Probably best to get out of here first and think about it later_, she thought. Rose turned to Steve and, taking his unprotesting hand, led him away from the Vampaneze and out of the lair, following the long line of freaks and vampires.


	37. A final farewell

**My perfect ending. No, I don't care if you don't like the fact Mr Tiny has two hearts in my fic - it's a FANFIC people...**

The darkness surrounded him, pushing him and pulling him. He felt like he was being sucked through a long tunnel backwards and completely blind. He extended a hand. A door appeared. Darren's fist found the handle. He turned it and the door swung inwards easily. A dim, warm glow filled the room. It was a welcome relief from the darkness. With the light, there came a noise. It sounded like a faint heartbeat. Two heartbeats. They overlapped each other and were slow and steady. Darren stepped into the light. It immediately revealed a figure kneeling in the middle of the floor, bent double. It was groaning and rocking. Darren immediately walked towards it.

"Are you all right?" he called out. Up close, he recognised the attire. A head of red hair atop a black cloak revealed Mr Crepsley, shaking with pain. Darren knelt down beside him and placed a hand on the quivering man's shoulder. The moaning faded away and Darren reeled back as the man laughed. Well, it was more of a chortle. Wisps of grey hair slowly receded into a bald head and the body swelled in size. Mr Tiny staggered to his feet now laughing uncontrollably. His booming voice shook the room like an earthquake. Bits of plaster detached themselves from the ceiling and fell down around Darren. He screamed.

"Darren? Darren?" a gentle voice stirred the boy from his turbulent slumber. Darren struggled to open his eyes, blinking in the harsh new light and propped himself up on his elbows, sweat streaming down his forehead. Mr Crepsley was staring down at him with an odd expression.

"You had a nightmare," he announced, "your indecipherable shouting quite distracted me. I was trying to enjoy my breakfast." Darren regarded the man with disdain. The relief he had felt a moment ago to see him safe quickly evaporated.

"Sorry I disturbed you," he muttered, swinging his legs out of bed, "what are we having?" Mr Crepsley removed another glass from his desk drawer and filled it with a crimson liquid.

"Here," he said, passing the drink. "Now drink up. I have a friend arriving soon." Darren scowled and emptied the glass.

"Who?" he asked, placing the stained cup on the desk. Mr Crepsley reached over and moved it onto a coaster.

"Gavner. He wants to talk to you." The vampire sniffed. "He's here." Darren stifled a laugh. He knew vampires had an excellent sense of smell but the way Mr Crepsley's nose wrinkled in disgust suggested Gavner's scent was less than pleasant. A moment later the younger vampire arrived. He wrapped on the pole by the entrance with bony knuckles, feigning politeness. He was wearing a look that Darren found strange yet enthralling. He looked amused and sad at the same time. He bowed in respect of their presence.

"Larten!" he cried, "How are you? Have you quite recovered?" He removed his cloak and threw it in Darren's general direction. The boy shot out a hand and grabbed it before it fell to the floor and immediately wished he hadn't. He wasn't the man's servant. However good manners forced him to dust the cloak down and place it on a hook by the door. He carefully avoided Mr Crepsley's amused expression.

"I'm fine, load of fuss," mumbled Mr Crepsley patting his shoulder. The wound hadn't been deep. The blood that had flowed from the gash had been over dramatic in the vampire's opinion. He tutted at the injury in disapproval as though it had only bled for attention.

"Good. What about you, boy?" Darren looked into the vampire's piercing blue eyes and shrugged.

"Fine," he said nonchalantly. There was no point mentioning the nightmares; he was sure they'd fade with time. Gavner nodded and took a seat on the desk, ignoring Mr Crepsley's reproachful stare. For a while, no one said anything. Each were lost in their own thoughts. Darren seemed to come to his senses first. The silence embarrassed him.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he said to Gavner. Gavner looked at him without seeing him. Darren coughed and the vampire shook his head, freeing himself from the restraints of his thoughts.

"Yeah, er, yes, I did," he coughed, "I just wanted to be clear that you're in no danger." He looked sideways at Mr Crepsley. "Not anymore."

"But what about Mr Tiny? What about the Vampaneze? And Steve Leonard?" Gavner stared at his dirty fingernails intently.

"Oh we're fairly certain Mr Tiny won't return. He's a bit of a sore loser you see. He'll most likely sulk for a few hundred years and then challenge someone else. Maybe a while longer considering he only has one heart now. We have had confirmation that the Vampaneze managed to stab his first with great accuracy. I'll bet the demon will think twice next time he tries to start a war as he's only half immortal now."

"He had _two_ hearts?" gasped Darren.

"I thought I heard an extra heartbeat that night he visited Mr Tall," added Mr Crepsley.

"Yes, well, and as for the Vampaneze, I think they're lying low and licking their wounds. Of course, it would be madness to think that the feud between us has ceased, quite contrary, I believe this minor fracas has served to fuel it but we should be thankful everyone got out alive."

"Most of us," said Darren pointedly. He recalled the heightened sounds of slaughter the night the Gang delivered him to the Vampaneze.

"The Gang? You mourn them? But they betrayed you!"

"They didn't deserve what Mr Tiny did to them. They wanted revenge. Their lives were miserable and they wanted to blame someone for it. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Sure," shrugged Gavner, "I strangled the man who turned me into a vampire."

"Well, fortunately for me then Darren enjoys his new life," said Mr Crepsley quickly.

"For now."

"Anyway," sighed Darren, "what about Steve? I know what he's like, he'll want revenge!" He frowned at the silent conversation that followed between the older vampires. They communicated through a complex code of eyebrow waggling and pulling faces.

"He's not here," said Gavner at last, "he's..."

"He's waiting for Rose offsite. They'll be long gone tomorrow. He won't trouble you again."

"Long gone..." said Darren. He stared at Mr Crepsley unseeingly for a long time and then blinked and searched his pockets frantically. He found what he was looking for in his back pocket and, excusing himself, hurried out of the door.

Outside the air was fresh and crisp and the sun was a watery light in the distance, partly concealed by off white clouds. Light bounced off puddles in the gravel and off wet windows. In the branches of trees around the campsite, crows croaked ominously. Darren found Rose sitting outside his own tent by herself staring a a faint moon which hadn't realised it was daytime. She offered a small smile when she saw him. Darren slowed to a walk and sat next to her.

"I wasn't waiting for you," she said at last, still watching the pale moon, "I've just said my goodbyes to Evra and Rebecca." Darren removed a folded envelope from his jeans.

"Here," he said, giving it to her, "put this in my room somewhere. If you happen to go past that way I mean," he added. Rose took it and nodded gravely. She turned it over in her hands before placing it carefully in a bag by her feet.

"I will," she promised. She stared carefully at the dew covered grass and tried not to smile. Darren had changed; he was making an effort to be happy. She bit back the phrase 'I told you so' for it is one of the most hated sentences in the world and instead focused on not ruining the peace between them.

"It's a diary entry," said Darren suddenly. Rose glanced up in surprise. The boy was picking at the grass.

"Oh...um, you don't..." Rose began. She didn't want Darren to feel like he had to reveal what the envelope held in case it made him uncomfortable.

"No, I want to tell you," he said firmly, "it was your idea after all. I wrote a few pages of meaningless stuff, just about school and friends, just to let them know I was happy. I wrote how my sister Annie made me laugh and that I was looking forward to my dad teaching me to drive...I wrote about how I could smell my mum's cooking downstairs and how good her dinners were. You were right Rose, they need closure and so do I." He looked up to see her grinning at him.

"I'm glad," she said, "you're finally getting things right. I don't know if you've ever noticed this, but first impressions are often entirely wrong. To think I used to think you stubborn."

"And I used to consider you evil!"

"I think I've changed my point of view," smiled Rose. She patted his hand awkwardly and stood up. Darren rose too.

"So you're leaving then. Now?"

"Not long," Rose sighed, "say goodbye to Crepsley for me. I've already thanked Mr Tall."

"Was he sad to see you go?"

"Oh, you know what he's like...he was solemn...said something about second chances - and strawberries." She shook her head and laughed. "And I've always got a home here, too."

"And friends," added Darren. Rose's mouth slid into a lop-sided smile as she shoulder her rucksack.

"I'll be sure to hide your goodbyes," she said, "and who knows, maybe I'll visit."

"Well, please send some warning first, okay?"

"Okay," laughed Rose. The two paused and felt their eyes inexplicably drawn to a gap in the trees in the distance.

"Is he waiting for you?" asked Darren. Rose smiled and nodded.

"We're traveling. It used to make me feel humble to know that the world was too big a place to see it all - and angry obviously - but now I have all the time in the world, I intend to spend it, if not wisely then at least well. After all, death is supposed to be an adventure, isn't it? What bigger adventure than to visit the unknown?"

"Sounds wonderful," agreed Darren, tearing his eyes away at last from the clearing, "Just don't forget where you came from, all right?"

"Oh I couldn't forget the past few months even if I tried," swore Rose. It was true. A year ago she was a completely different person, innocent, ignorant, unhappy. Everything had changed and Rose believed whole heartedly that it was for the better. In the distance, light winked as a moving shadow distorted it. Rose lifted her chin and smiled.

"Time to go," she said. Darren nodded and embraced her.

"Stay safe," he muttered. Rose pushed him away and looked into his cautious eyes.

"I couldn't be in safer company," she said. At last Rose felt ready to go and so with a final smile at her surroundings, she walked away from the Cirque without looking back. She could felt that unexplainable pressure on her back as dozens of eyes watched her leave.

In the shade of the overhanging branches, Steve met her with a grin. He was wearing his usual black clothing which he could not be persuaded to part with and his eyes gleamed with a new found happiness. He looked past her into the Cirque.

"Was it hard to leave?" he asked taking her hand.

"Yes," she shrugged. The Cirque and it's inhabitants had shown her uncompromising kindness and she would miss their company however the prospect of adventures in foreign worlds with Steve for the rest of forever tempted her into the unknown.

"I may go back...someday," she said, "now that Mr Tiny has gone and the Vampaneze aren't a threat."

"You're welcome," said Steve smartly. Rose looked at him sideways as they walked through the woods, their backs to the rising sun.

Rose didn't reply. She hid a beam behind her hair. Steve continued to mutter as they stomped through the dead leaves which littered the woodland floor in the golden glow of the midmorning sun. Rose ignored his complaints and basked in his aura of amity. Every now and again he'd glance over to check she was listening and she'd make sure he saw her smiling at the winding path ahead. When his mumblings dwindled down to the odd comment, Rose knew he was happy and so was she.

The afternoon looked bright and promising. The watery sun was rising through the clouds which were broken and few. Hand in hand, Rose and Steve shared a common thought. The past and everything it held, good or bad, and everything that made them who they were now, was behind them and today, at the beginning of a journey to nowhere in particular, it was time to put who they were to the test. Her fingers laced through his, their wandering steps took them at a steady pace through Eden along a provisional, solitary path.


End file.
